Nothing to Lose
by ShinyAnn
Summary: Draco and Harry are accepted into auror training at one of the best Academies in England. Draco finds Harry weird and confusing while Harry has a huge crush on the blonde. Will they make it out as friends, or maybe something more? Chaptered. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_they say life is a battlefield_

_I say bring it on _

Draco knows that in the long scheme of things, simple aspects of human existence, like pride and dignity are quite important. He knows that they're assets that are hard to earn, very easy to lose and they are more valuable than the breath in your body.

He also knows that once you've lost your pride and your dignity, there's nothing much left to lose.

And that is how Draco enters the Auror Academy, wand held in the back pocket of his faded blue jeans, meager belongings stuffed in a torn backpack with holes in his socks and scuffed sneakers on his feet.

With nothing left to lose.

Its a sprawling campus, a few thousand acres bigger than Hogwarts with century-old buildings and a well-kept lawn and it boggles his mind that he has been accepted into such a prestigious place. A place where only the creme-de-la-creme of graduates are given a chance to train. His knees are shaking a bit, only partly from the cold. Despite the chilly weather, he can feel sweat at the back of his head, clinging to his blonde hair and lightly trickling down his neck.

The huge Archway leading to the driveway is scary in itself and Draco stands there for a second, looking up at the huge awning, gulping a bit , before rummaging in his backpack for the crumpled piece of parchment. He carefully studies the words, shuts his eyes and thinks them with all his might . The sound of something creaking open makes his eyes fly open and he finds himself staring at a pair of huge iron gates, thrown open in front of him. He moves inside quickly, as though scared the gates may change their mind, once they saw who was trying to get it.

The parchment also has a small map, pointing out various buildings and he quickly traces a path to the main building, where all of them have been asked to assemble.

He makes his way to the reception, his footsteps echoing hollowly on the cement pavement leading up to the huge doors. Its pretty late and the middle of winter , so most of the paths are deserted , the snow piled neatly on the sides . His clothes are shabby, purely utilitarian , doing a very poor job of keeping him warm and he takes the last few steps to the entrance at a run, the small exercise heating his limbs marginally.

For a second, he's a little hesitant.

He isn't sure whats waiting on the other side and he isn't sure what he's walking into. All he knows is that he has no life outside this place. The post-war world is cruel to ex death eaters and Draco Malfoy topped the list of 'Shoot on sight Evil Doers '.

His hesitation is strong but short lived.

_Nothing to lose, _he tells himself, fingers curling around the doorknob.

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me!"

This from Ernie Macmillan , who Draco vaguely remembers as a Hufflepuff. He has a look of abject disbelief on his face, his eyes trained on Draco. Draco stares back evenly , not willing to back down.

_Don't worry, you deserve to be here. _

"Is he going to serve as our target or something? Do we get to punch his guts when we do well?" Ron sneers , disgust welling up in each syllable. Draco gives him a brief glance but keeps quiet. He can think of a dozen retorts for that, but he knows better. He knows that keeping his bones intact is a lot more important than keeping his dignity.

There are about fifty students in his batch, all of them men.

He recognizes a handful of them, some from his old school and a few from Dumstrang and Beauxbaton. The rest of them are just vague nameless, faceless figures, hovering in the background while he stays resolutely seated on the couch. Ron and his cronies are close by and they make no effort to keep their voice down as they express their opinion about letting a death eater train at such a prestigious institution.

As the insults continue, he looks around for a distraction .

His eyes land on a lone figure, lounging against one of the pillars, watching him.

Potter is dressed in expensive clothes. Designer jeans, a nice shirt and a very warm looking blazer. His hands are buried in the side pockets of his jeans and he had his entire weight resting on his strong hips, pushing into the solid pillar, his feet crossed at the ankles. Its a poised, classy pose and Draco feels the blood rush to his feet at the visual pleasure the entire scene gives him, his heart thrumming violently.

Potter has always been weirdly attractive , he supposes . The hair looks like a mop , of course and his glasses would look ridiculous on anyone else. The only saving grace is the angular slant of his jaw and the bright , bright eyes. They're positively luminous , deep enough to trip and fall into.

Potter continues looking at him, not joining his friends as they mock him but not asking them to stop either. Instead he keeps staring at him, a look of preoccupied curiosity on his face. Its like he wouldn't mind studying him, but he wasn't going to waste his energy in that pursuit. It makes Draco feel simultaneously honored and insulted.

They're allotted dorm rooms and also a schedule for the next day. When its time to pick roommates , he automatically assumes that once everyone is done , he would get picked by some poor sod.

To his shock though, halfway through, when Malfoy's name is called and he opens his mouth to say he has no preference, a voice rings out from near the pillar.

"I'd like to room with him."

Draco whips around in shock, his mind recognizing the lilting cadence of that voice but his conscience screaming in disbelief.

_What the fuck,_ is the only coherent thought in his head as Potter continues looking at him.

"Alright. Is that okay with you, Mr. Malfoy?" The lady smiles brightly at him and he turns back to look at Potter. There's something almost challenging in his eyes, a sort of defiance , as though daring Draco to say yes and he gulps, not entirely sure what kind of deep shit he was getting himself into.

"Uh.. yeah . That's. ... That's fine." He clears his throat .

He isn't sure if he imagines the chuckle behind him. But he's pretty sure he doesn't imagine the heated gaze on the side of his head as he signs the necessary forms to get his key. Draco doesn't wait for Potter to get his key or luggage. Instead he hauls the single suitcase, which he'd sent in earlier , up the three flights of stairs leading to his room.

One of the academy rules is no magic inside the dorms and he's sure that's gonna make his life pure hell. When he finally opens the door to his room and stumbles in, he's panting and sweating.

Its pretty standard. A pair of cots , on either side of the small room, separated by a length of threadbare carpet. There's a window, overlooking the lawn with ugly green curtains and a cracked pane. The table on his side of the room is clean and only slightly scratched, the wood strong and sturdy. The closet is something they would have to share and Draco doesn't think that would be a problem. His clothes are few and he wouldn't mind leaving them in his suitcase. A small water filter stand in one corner of the room, its steady drip drip echoing through the space.

He goes back out and peers down the corridor, now bustling with other boys , moving stuff and calling out to each other.

"Hey!" A voice calls out to his right and he turns . A sweaty faced blonde with sad brown eyes stares back at him, hands around a huge wooden crate.

"Could you help me with this?" He asks meekly.

The boy looks like he's having a heart attack and Draco quickly moves to his side. The crate is very heavy and the boy's room is on the other end of the corridor .

He sighs in defeat , because the kid looks like he's a few seconds away from bursting into tears.

They barely move the crate a few more feet when Draco's ankle twists.

Painfully.

Its something he honestly doesn't expect and before he can try and right himself, he falls , butt landing on the carpeted floor and legs folding beneath his weight. The crate lands on his injured ankle, crushing his foot .

Pain, sharp and agonizing , shoots up his ankle and he's pretty certain its broken. But before he can pull himself up, a pair of arms slip under his armpit, pulling him up and away from the wreckage. He tries to turn and his senses are filled with the smell of apricots and green apples . His nostrils flare in delight and he tries to catch his breath.

"Are you alright?"

Its that voice again.

He struggles a bit, trying to get out of the strong hold but Potter merely tightens his grip.

"Hey, relax. I got you." Potter's lips are unnaturally close to his ears. He wants to wail at the unfairness of it all , but instead he settles for glaring back at the boy.

"Let go of me!" He snarls and Potter doesn't look scared or intimidated. In fact he looks mildly amused.

"You'll drop like a stone if I do." He explains patiently, tossing him around without warning. Draco yelps in surprise and sure enough , his injured foot refuses to accept his weight and he crashes into Harry's chest , face buried in his shoulder.

"Fuck." He swears, trying to straighten and then to his shock , Potter is swinging him up into his arms. The corridor is filled with hoots and wolf whistles as Potter carries him into their room, bridal style. Draco is pretty certain his face is a few seconds away from self combusting.

Potter places him carefully on the bed near the window and even picks out the pillow from his own bed, using it to prop his ankle up. He then begins rolling up Draco's pants.

"The fuck are you doing?" Draco asks, more scared than angry. Potter merely rolls his eyes and gently presses his long , soft fingers against his swollen ankle.

"What?" Draco blinks worriedly, trying to ignore the throbbing pain , threatening to drive him crazy.

"Its not broken. Sprained at the most. Hang on." Potter crosses over to his side of the room, where a pair of designer suitcases rest against the steel cot. He opens one of them quickly, fingers pulling open one of the side flaps and rummaging inside. He pulls out something and then crosses back to Draco's bed. Its a bandage of sorts, peach colored and rough textured and Draco winces when Potter wraps it around his ankle, tight and snug. He uses a few small pins to hold it together and then pats his handiwork.

"The infirmary doesn't cater to anything but life threatening cases. They're just gonna ask you to suck it up and put up with the pain. This should help a bit." Potter says blandly , pulling out a blanket from the bottom closet and tossing it next to Draco.

"Uh.. Thanks , I guess." Draco says awkwardly, completely thrown off by this new helpful Potter. Had the war damaged his brains? Weren't they supposed to be enemies or something?

Potter doesn't reply . Instead he flips off the light and flops down on his bed.

* * *

When Draco wakes up in the morning , its past nine . The sunlight from the broken window is feeble and warm and he blinks blearily, stretching his arms over his head and feeling the last remnant of sleep seep out of his pores. He blinks a couple of times and then sits up tentatively, flexing his ankles and checking for pain. It's a lot better, reduced to a dull throb and he swings himself to his feet, peeking a bit at the other bed. Potter is missing.

The sheets are neatly made and the suitcases are empty. He waddle walks to the closet and finds it neatly divided into two sides, with Potter's clothes arranged perfectly on one side. The other side is empty and Draco considers hanging his clothes there, but the prospect of his hand me down clothes near Potter's expensive ones, makes the tips of his ears burn.

There's a small note on his table.

_No schedule today. Classes start tomorrow. Breakfast ends at eleven. _

The handwriting is like chicken scrawl and he snickers a bit at that.

It takes him around twenty minutes to find the dining hall and when he enters it, its mostly empty. He fixes himself a plate of toast and settles near a window seat, his eyes taking in the snow covered landscape outside. Some of the boys are out in the park, walking in pairs or alone, some of them sitting on the stone benches placed all over the sprawling grounds. One of them laughs loud and long, the boisterous sound carrying over the barren lawns and reaching Draco's ears clearly.

He can't really remember the last time he's laughed like that. Maybe when he was in Hogwarts? Probably. He continues munching on his toast and then starts when the plate in front of him goes flying, crashing into the window and splattering jam all over the table. He looks up in shock and finds himself staring at a group of boys, a few years older than him.

"Look what we have here boys... One of the pretty little things that came in yesterday." This from the tallest one, who looks like he led the other two boys next to him, both of whom looked like they were too dumb to put one foot in front of another. His minds flashes back to his childhood. Did he look this stupid with Crabbe and Goyle?

He gets pulled back from his reverie by a hand on his collar, lifting him off his seat.

"you look at me when I'm talking to you, punk!" The boy hisses and Draco stares at the collar of his shirt.

"I'm gay." He says quietly. The boy looks like he's been slapped.

"What?" He rasps.

"I'm gay, so you better let go of me right now." He says evenly . Its almost funny how the boy lets go of him and retreats back , all in less than a second.

"What the actual fuck-" His friend mutters, running his fingers through his hair.

"And I'm still friends with Fenrir Greyback. Heard of him?" Draco smiles, leaning closer and this time they take three huge steps back.

"I can see you do. So run along like good little boys and leave me in peace." He gives them a _shoo-go-on-now _ kind of gesture and they walk away hurriedly muttering to themselves in evident disbelief.

Draco picks up his tray and tosses it in the bin before moving out into the grounds.

He spends most of the morning walking around the place, pausing occasionally to rest his legs on one of the benches. Exploring the grounds feels oddly relaxing and he enjoys the solitude, pulling out his notepad once in a while to make small notes about each place. Its a habit from childhood and he enjoys reading back his first impressions about places.

Around One o clock he runs into Potter , who has something like a small box against his chest, held there by a strap that goes around his neck. He finds him peering out into one of the shaded areas of the grounds, his entire being focused on something Draco couldn't make out.

He hesitates for a second, wondering if he should disturb the boy , but his decision's made when Potter turns around and catches sight of him. He gets ready for the smile that Potter would no doubt throw his way, but to his surprise it doesn't come. Potter looks as vacant as ever, his eyes trained on Draco thoughtfully.

They stand like that for a minute or so, separated by a few feet of snow and Potter's gaze finally drops to his ankle.

"Feeling better?" He asks quietly . Draco shrugs a bit at that and then waits for Potter to continue the conversation. But Potter merely turns back to peer into the trees, dismissing him without a word. Draco feels an odd pang of disappointment at that but he swallows it down. He looks around for someplace to sit and finds a big rock, slightly flat at the top. He lowers himself gingerly, flexing his ankle a bit and then stretching his legs out.

It's unexpectedly comfortable.

They're in one of the secluded parts of the school, separated from the main building by thick woods and the lake. Draco pulls out his notepad and scribbles a few things down before turning around to look at Potter.

Potter keeps pulling the box up to his eyes, pressing down on some sort of a button at the top edge. The box then makes a small whirring sound and Potter uses his thumb to pull a lever back and then lets it go. The lever switches back to its original position and then Potter pulls the box back up to his eyes. Its a slow repetitive process and Draco feels brain dead just from watching.

"What is that ?" He calls out after fifteen minutes, his curiosity getting the better of him. Potter looks at him in mild surprise, as though only just realizing that Draco was still there.

"This? Its a camera." He smiles fondly at the box, before shuffling over to Draco's side. He carefully pulls the lever back again, raise it to his face and clicks. Draco blinks as some kind of shutter closes over the small round lens in front of the box. Potter reemerges over the box and grins at him.

"There. Now you're caught." He laughs.

Draco stares in confusion.

"Caught?"

"On film. Doesn't matter what you do or where you go. On film you'll always look adorably confused. " Potter laughs again and then turns around and walks off , whistling cheerfully. Draco stares after him in confusion, not sure what was scarier. The fact that Potter was obviously unhinged or the fact that he thought Draco looked adorable.

* * *

When Draco gets back to his room for his afternoon nap, he finds a pair of boys lounging outside his door, talking to each other quietly. He recognizes one of them as the boy with the crate while the other is taller and better looking, but unfamiliar. The moment they spot him , both boys straighten away from the wall and the taller pushes his friend in Draco's direction.

Crate boy's eyes look as sad as ever and he almost trips over his feet as he makes his way to Draco.

"I'm so sorry about yesterday. I was going to apologize but your boyfriend.."

"My what?!" Draco splutters in shock. The taller boy makes a noise of exasperation and moves to join the conversation.

"He means your roommate. Harry Potter. " The tall boy smiles at him, his eyes roving over Draco's body with evident appreciation. Hmm. Interesting.

"And you are?" Draco turns his attention to the taller boy. He looks fit and smart, think brown hair combed neatly and clear brown eyes wide and intelligent.

"Troy Davenport. And this is my roommate Gerald Frances." He shifts his head in the direction of crate boy aka. Gerald, who grins happily.

"Draco Malfoy." Draco shakes hands with both of them and feels a bit shell shocked. He hadn't expected to make friends.

"We live at the end of the corridor. Its pretty boring out here so if you wanna hang out... " Gerald's voice trails off and he looks helplessly at Troy who grins at the smaller boy.

"Yeah, Gerry's right. If you and your roomie ever get bored you can join us. We've got tons of video games." Troy says conspiratorially and Draco finds himself laughing.

"That sounds very tempting. I'll keep that in mind." He smiles at them and Troy smiles again before moving away , a grinning Gerald waving in his wake.

Draco lets himself inside the room, shivering a bit at the late afternoon chill permeating the confined space. Draco carefully settles down on the bed, fingers peeling the socks off his ankle and tossing it into the hamper near his bed. He pulls the curtain closed, in a bid to keep some of the light down and barely settles back against his pillow when the door opens and Potter shuffles in, shaking snow out of his hair.

He isn't alone though.

Ernie Macmillan is hanging onto him, his laugh loud and irritating. He stops short at the sight of Draco and sneers his greeting.

"I still can't believe you're rooming with -"

"We talked about this , Ernie. Either you play nice or you stay out." Potter says with a half smile and Ernie looks marginally abashed. He shoots Draco another look of loathing before leaning in closer to Potter and whispering something in his ear. Draco doesn't miss the way the bigger boy leans over the brunette, tips of his fingers brushing Harry's elbow and breath brushing the lobe of his ear. The scene is unbelievably anger inducing and Draco quickly rolls over, turning his face to the window and staring out.

Ernie hangs around for another ten minutes or so before leaving and Potter scoots over to his side of the room and peers into his face. Draco raises an eyebrow at the weird behavior and Potter flushes.

"Sorry, I thought you were sleeping...I just ... can I borrow your table?" He points at the table helpfully and Draco rolls his eyes.

"Whatever."

For about ten minutes , Potter went about tweaking the room , arranging the tables side by side and making sure it was completely dark. He them pulled out trays , jugs full of some liquid and an assortment of other things. Draco watches him as he pulls out a roll from his box and then sinks it in the trays.

"Potter?" He asks softly.

Potter hums a response to indicate he's listening.

"I know what a camera is."

There's silence and then Potter turns around, the tips of his ears red.

"Oh? I'm sorry ... I just..."

"Its alright. I only know the wizarding kind. Yours looks like a lot more fun." He says truthfully and Potter's ears turn redder.

"uh.. Thanks I guess. But they don't really move, so..." he trails off, scratching the tip of his nose with his forefinger. The sight is ridiculously endearing and Draco quickly turns over, burying his face into his pillow.

_he's not your friend,_ he tells himself angrily.

Potter moves back to his work and after a few seconds, he starts humming a soft song.

Potter doesn't say anything else for the rest of the evening and Draco falls asleep to the sound of Potter's sweet voice.


	2. Chapter 2

At first glance the room is nondescript. The walls are white, the ceiling is white and so is the floor. There's a door on the opposite wall, also painted white with a shiny brass doorknob. Draco stands with his spine flattened against the wall, separated from the door by ten feet or so. As he watches, there's a knock on the door.

"Draco?" A soft voice calls out. He recognizes the voice. He begins moving, ready to open the door and let her in but his feet are planted in place. He looks down in shock and there are ugly green vines around his ankles and calves holding him in place while he tries to get out.

The knock on the door grows louder and then suddenly his mother is pounding from the other side.

"Draco... Draco.. please... open the door... help me.."

"Mother!" He can feel himself screaming but no sound comes out. There's no air in the room and the sound waves don't travel across. The door shakes with the impact of his mother's fists and the doorknob shakes and rattles and he reaches out trying to crawl across the room.

He does manage to crawl .

Right across his bed to the floor, falling off the metal cot and landing on the carpet. He winces from the impact, mind still groggy from the nightmare. He blinks a bit and finds a pair of green eyes peering into his face. He jumps in shock and rocks back, head hitting the leg of his cot.

"Ow.." He whispers and to his annoyance Potter is fighting laughter.

"Are you alright?" He asks, stifling his smile with very pronounced difficulty.

"I'm fine." Draco says petulantly, rubbing the sore spot a bit more vigorously. Potter spares him another amused glance before offering him a hand. Defiantly, Draco ignores the proffered hand and scrambles to his feet by himself, narrowly avoiding tripping over the blankets he's tangled in. Potter smiles gamely at the brush off and walks back to his side of the room. Draco settles in the bed and stares at the other side, where Potter has tied a length of string, from one wall to the other. Large photo prints hang from the string, not clear enough to make out.

"Once they're dry you can see them clearly." Potter explains, looking annoyingly amused at Draco's curiosity. Draco vows to never glance at Potter's side of the room again.

"I don't want to see them. " He wants to sound cool. Instead he sounds like a kid refusing dinner with a rumbling stomach.

Potter laughs again and the sound is beginning to sound nice to Draco's ears, so he opens his mouth to ask Potter to cut out with the guffaws. He's saved the trouble by a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice.

"Draco?"

Potter raises an eyebrow at him and Draco quickly moves to the door , opening it. Troy and Gerald stand on the other side, dressed in ridiculously warm clothes, complete with mittens. He blinks a bit at the scene and then Troy grins.

"We were going down to dinner. Would you guys like to come along?" He asks, leaning to his side and peering around Draco to wave at Potter. Potter immediately joins Draco's side and to the blonde's complete chagrin, he wraps an arm around Draco's waist.

"Your friends, Draco?" Potter asks with a devilish smile on his face. Draco feels blood rush to his face and wonders if there's steam coming out of his ears. He tries to move out of the circle of Potter's arms but the hold tightens. Troy's eyes flicker to the arm and he raises an eyebrow at Draco.

Great , Potter is messing with his potential love life. It was time to put his foot down.

Except he has no idea how and ends up heading to dinner along with Potter.

To add to his misery, Troy is absolutely fascinated with Potter. The pair of them snicker and laugh and share secret smiles like long-lost brothers and Draco is stuck listening to Gerald talk about his two pet poodles and a pet turtle, trying to keep his smile in place.

* * *

Its past nine when they get back to the room and Draco is close to falling asleep on his feet. He slips a hand into the pockets of his jacket and finds a piece of paper there. Surprised, he pulls it out and to his shock its his sixth year Hogwarts letter, folded into an impossibly small square and probably washed a few dozen times.

"What is that?" Unlike him, Potter has no qualms about stuffing his cute nose into other people's business and the brunette leans around Draco's arm to stare at the parchment. Draco fights the childish urge to hide the letter and grudgingly holds it out to Potter. The boy carefully smooths out the serrated surface and smiles a little thoughtfully and then hands it back to Draco.

"What?" Draco snaps before he can stop himself. Potter looks surprised at his short tone.

"Hmm?" He looks a question , his head tilted to one side.

"What is that smile supposed to mean? I mean... every time I see you, you have this stupid thoughtful grin , like you know some million dollar secret and it's really annoying."

Draco realizes that he sounds annoying and snobbish. He bites his lips, mildly regretful but Potter continues staring at him vacantly and he feels like some kind of insect stuck underneath a microscope.

After a few seconds, Potter smiles.

"I'm sorry." He says soothingly , almost pityingly and Draco can feel a vein throbbing in his forehead.

"Stop that." he hisses angrily. Potter looks surprised again, eyebrows raised and Draco has no idea what to do with Potter or with himself.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that. Like you feel sorry for me! Like I'm some kind of a lost cause you're trying to rescue." His insecurities come spilling out without warning and Draco bites his lips in self-reproach. What was wrong with him? Why was he letting Potter get to him? Here was life offering him a second chance at living and why the fuck was he losing himself in emotional shit.

Potter looks worried now. He takes a step closer to Draco, invading his personal space.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Draco -"

"It's Malfoy! And I wish you'd just stay the fuck away from me! " Draco snaps, reaching out and shoving Potter's shoulder in a bid to put some distance between them. Potter is clearly a lot more frail than he looks, because he falls back roughly, the edge of the table catching his hip painfully. The brunette winces and this time Draco really does feel guilty.

"Oh, shit I-" he takes a step forward but Potter holds a hand up.

"Its alright. I'll stay away from you... _Malfoy."_ The last two syllables are almost sneered and Draco tries not to flinch at the annoyance in Potter's voice.

When he goes to bed , his eyes fall on the peach colored bandage that Potter had wrapped around his ankle the previous night. The guilt in his chest intensifies and he sits still for a few seconds, biting his lower lips in confusion. Potter had changed into his night-clothes and slipped into bed , rolling to his side and probably falling asleep. Draco quickly opens his backpack, picking out the small plastic bag that held his stationery. He tosses the pens and pencils into the draw of his table before folding the bag and slipping it into pocket of his hoodie.

Draco waits for a few more seconds before creeping out of the dorm room. He reaches the dispenser and quickly fills up his cover with the ice cubes.

When he returns to the room, he opens the door to find himself face to face with Potter.

"Oh." he blinks, surprised. Potter ignores him completely and tries to move around him and only then does Draco notice the cover in potter's hands.

"Wait!" He reaches out, fingers wrapping around Potter's wrist. The brunette raises an eyebrow in question, eyes trained on Draco's fingers.

"I got this for you." Draco grins in an exaggerated way but his smile falters a bit when Potter doesn't respond. Instead he takes the makeshift icepack and pulls out a couple , balancing them in his palm thoughtfully.

"thank you I suppose." He says and when he looks back at Draco, he has the most devilishly evil smile on his face. Before Draco can process what he's up to, Potter pulls the collar of his shirt and tosses the ice cubes in. Draco howls in shock and jumps around like a bunny while Potters rolls around in laughter. Later though, he helps Draco fold the stack of clothes he's knocked down during his impromptu dance routine. Draco for his part, helps Harry press the ice pack to the bruise on his hip.

Its funny, Draco thinks, how people can find ridiculous things to bond over.

* * *

Classes start the next day at nine. Draco learns that he has three papers in his first term; Advanced Defence against the Dark Arts , Wandless Magic and Spell Manipulations, Advanced potions :Level two.

The books are big enough to sleep on and he tries not to groan at the schedule, which despite the low number of classes is practically filled up with Practical sessions, theoretical sessions and Review sessions. To top it all off they're ordered to assemble at the North Tower at five sharp, for two hours of study time before dinner.

Harry's schedule is almost identical to his, except for Potions which he takes on alternate days. As they settle into their routine, Draco finds less and less time to interact with his friends and even Potter. He's on scholarship, which meant that he would have to keep his grades top-notch to continue there. He spends inordinate times in the school library, which reminds him of Hogwarts. There are plenty of secluded alcoves around the place and Draco soon finds the most deserted place possible and makes it his own.

It's a beautiful little place, with a natural window seat, looking over the huge shaded woods on the east side of the grounds. He has very little distractions there and the amount of work that he gets done is appreciably more.

Also, he catches sight of Potter on occasion, from his vantage point on the first floor. Potter studies almost as hard as he does, but unlike him it's not out of obligation. Potter is genuinely in love with his chosen subject and he sits on the stone bench, right below Draco's alcove, sheaves of Parchment and books spread around him. He also has his faithful camera at hand, occasionally taking photographs. Draco finds the sight soothing and sometimes he wonders if Potter knows he's watching him from overhead.

They're allotted small lockers and Draco finds that his locker is almost always destined to be vandalized, his essays torn or his ink bottle emptied over his books. Troy feels righteous indignation against the perpetrators and insists on Draco complaining to the administration but Draco quickly hushes the boy. Troy means well, but he doesn't know the disappointment that comes from having ones pleas for help ignored.

Best not seek help in the first place.

Besides it's just a few papers. Nothing he can't handle.

Potter doesn't make overly obvious efforts to be friendly with Draco, although he turns off his light when Draco's sleeping and once or twice Draco had fallen asleep at his table, only to wake up in bed, neatly tucked in. Some nights, Potter makes soup in a corner of the room, using something called an electric heater and Draco finds the concoction to be one of the most soothingly delicious things on the planet. A bowl of Potter's soup and he's out like a light for seven straight hours, undisturbed by nightmares.

As term progresses and Winter begins slowly fading, they get their first respite, in the form of a term break. Its short, just five days, but Draco longs for the relaxation, especially because of the awful sleepless nights he'd spent preparing for the tests. The test results weren't due for another week but he's pretty confident. On the first day of term break, Troy shuffles over to their room, dragging a suitcase.

"Mom's being all weepy. Promised to visit her." He says apologetically and Draco feels a slight pang. Troy is a good guy, genuinely friendly and very caring, almost like an overprotective mother hen and Draco has always enjoyed being spoiled rotten. He sticks his lower lip out petulantly and Troy laughs, ruffling his hair before promising to bring him tons of stuff from his hometown . Gerald had left early the previous night.

Only a handful of them stay at the School and Potter stays behind as well. After a lazy breakfast, both him and Draco make their way back to the dorm. Draco explains his intention of sleeping the day away while Potter is as quiet as ever. When they reach the dorm however, the boy shrugs on a nice thick jacket and reaches for his camera.

Draco feels exasperation creep up his spine at the sight. Potter has studied equally hard for their exams, as testified by the dar circles around his eyes and the tired, bluish tinge to his skin . Why couldn't the stubborn guy just take it easy for a while?

"You should probably rest for a while! You look tired!" Draco calls out to him from his place on the bed. Potter hums agreeably but continues tying his sneakers up. Draco sits up in annoyance.  
"It's not like the trees or the grounds are going to run away! Why won't you stay here for a while?" He asks sourly. He wonders if Potter is trying to run from him or something. Maybe he prefers hanging out in the cold grounds to sharing breathing space with him?

Potter evidently, is a mind reader, because he chuckles warmly.

"It's not because of you, Draco. I'm trying to make use of the light. " He points out of the window where the feeble light from the sun, filtered by layers of fluffy clouds, gently diffuses over the grounds and the buildings, bathing everything in a soft glow. Draco stares at the sight for a second before turning back to Harry.

But the brunette is already gone, the door swinging shut behind him.

* * *

Draco wakes up at two in the afternoon, starving. He finds Potter fiddling with his chemicals and trays as usual and the brunette smiles softly at the sight of him.

"Awake? I brought you some lunch, if you were hungry." He points at a brown paper bag. Draco all but pounces on it, finding a well wrapped burger and a carton of fries with two sachets of Ketchup. He wants to weep with joy at the offering, but settles for a beatific smile which make Potter swallow nervously.

Hah.

While Potter works on making prints of his photos, Draco munches on his burger and once he's done, he licks the ketchup off his fingers and calls out to Potter.

"Can I see some of your pictures?" He asks curiously. Potter grins in a very self-satisfied way and Draco regrets the impetuous words. Clearly the brunette had a swollen head as far as his photography skills were concerned. He made a mental note not to show too much appreciation for the prints.

Which turned out to be a bit difficult because the first photo was all it took to have the breath knocked out of his body. It was Granger, but not the fuzzy haired library monster of his acquaintance. It was Granger at her best, that night at the Yule Ball. She was leaning against the banister of the Great hall, her head tilted to one side, fingers resting gracefully on the carved wood, long train of her dress shimmering around her like melting moonlight.

But it was the smile that caught his attention.

A barely there, soft as cotton smile that warmed his heart, reminding him of innocence and desire. Of passion and tranquility.

"Th-This is..."

"Gorgeous? " Potter teases helpfully, settling down next to him. Draco nods helplessly because words cannot do justice.

He moves to the next picture, this one of Hogwarts and his heart just bloomed with pride at the sight of the four flags billowing in the wind, a muted but glowing sun in the background, a glistening crystal lake in the foreground and the Majestic Castle as the center piece, its towers and turrets calling out to him.

It takes him another ten minutes to go through all the prints. It's odd to see stationery forms and stagnant trees and leaves but to his amazement, Potter's photos have more life than any of the wizarding portraits he has ever seen.

"What is this?" He asks curiously. The picture was blurry, with smudged multicolored lights in the background and a small wooden horse in the center. The horse was the only clear part in the photograph, the rest of the picture fading into gray streaks.

"Its called a merry-go-round. It's a muggle ride." Potter explains with a smile. Draco looks at it for a second before it clicks.

"Oh, so the horse was-"

"Moving , yes. That's why the rest of the picture looks blurred. Its called panning and its a bit hard to get right actually. i just got lucky with this shot." he smiles, leaning closer and Draco finds himself staring at Potter's features, all sharp and handsome.

He's never noticed it before but Potter has a tiny dimple on his cheek . He also notices the rather silky texture of Potter's hair , the sharp cut of his jaw line and the almost bow-shaped curve of his lips.

Potter looks up then, his smile stilling at the look on Draco's face. Draco quickly whips his head back to the photographs , heart racing.

They stay quiet for the rest of the evening , exchanging very few words . Draco finds himself scribbling into his notepad about panning and moving too quickly in life and about blurred edges and distorted perspectives.

* * *

Monochrome pictures fascinate Harry. He knows that people find beauty in vibrant color but the countless shades between black and white capture emotions, a lot better than any red, blue or yellow. Skeletal black trees covered in pure white snow standing on ashen lawns, sometimes held against the backdrop of steel grey mountains or perhaps a clear white expanse of sky.

Draco is monochrome at its best.

White-gold hair that reflects the right amount of ambient light, enough to draw the eyes to its rich texture but not enough to divert attention from the paleness of his complexion. His skin is so smooth that it looks almost ethereal, the color of moonlight on a full moon night , the even expanse begging to be captured on film. Mercurial grey eyes that shift color from dark grey to glistening silver, each shade conveying the dip and nuance of his emotions.

Every time Harry raises the camera to his eyes, he finds a billion distractions. This is because no 2-Dimensional photograph is truly two-dimensional. There are so many things to consider.

The dark shades and the lighter tones, the shadows that hover in the background , the colors that distract from the main picture. The main picture is something Harry can't really describe. Its something that exists, even when every single distraction gets torn away. It stays there, steady and sure, while unnecessary details blur into the background.

In the few weeks that he's actually known him, Draco has become Harry's main picture.

The focus of his existence.

Someone who refuses to blur into the background, irrespective of the lighting or shutter speed.

* * *

When term break ends their results are announced. Draco tops their class with ease and Potter comes in fifth. Troy is fourth while Gerald had barely scraped through. They celebrate their results by going out for ice-cream to the small village , a few miles from campus. Troy and Gerald move to the counter to order, while Draco and Harry watch the handful of people in the ice-cream parlor.

A pretty little girl, with a red pigtail and bright green eyes catches Draco's eyes and he unconsciously sticks out his tongue at her. His action is , almost immediately , followed by a whirring sound and he blinks. Potter has his camera in hand and Draco feels mortified.

"Oh, my God!" He hisses in shock.

Potter laughs heartily.

"You looked very tempting." He explains with a smile, waving his fingers in a _I-really-couldn't-help-it _kind of way. Draco pouts in distaste only to be caught again. Potter is clearly a ninja at taking photographs.

"I wish you'd stop doing that." Draco mumbles in protest and Harry leans forward .

"Do you want to know a secret?" He asks softly, emerald eyes dancing in the pale lighting of the shop. Draco leans forward as well, mesmerized.

"A secret?" he asks , curious. Potter smiles his signature smile. The one that is both vacant and all-knowing .

"Every time I take someone's photo, I steal a bit of their soul." He grins, sharp white teeth glistening and Draco moves back, shocked.

"What the-?" he splutters in shock, staring first at Harry and then at the camera.

Potter guffaws heartily just as Troy and Gerald sink into their seats, pushing a bowl of vanilla ice cream in Draco's direction.

"What's the joke?" Troy asks curiously while Potter continues laughing at his expense.

"Draco here thinks he's lost his soul." Harry explains impishly, lightly flicking Draco's forehead. It doesn't hurt but Draco flinches away anyway. He rolls his eyes at the juvenile behavior.

"I do not. I never had a soul to begin with , thank you very much." Draco says through gritted teeth and Potter bites his lips to keep his laugh in.

"They say cameras and mirrors steal our souls though." Gerald pipes up and Harry starts laughing all over again.

* * *

**A/n :- what is this monster... I can't even believe its so long... and I haven't even started getting into the plot... *gives up on life * Reviews though? Pretty Please ? * pouts like Draco *  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Another dream. Not a nightmare, just a dream.

Draco stands on a long and narrow country road. Its late autumn and there are trees on either side of the road, the tops of their form lit by a fading sun, glistening in hues of red and orange and gold. He stands still for a few seconds, fingers dipping lightly into the front pockets of his jeans. He has no idea what he's waiting for , but he knows he has too keep waiting.

After a while though, his patience wears thin and he begins walking, up the slightly steep road. He can feel the edges of the pebbles underfoot, digging into his soles. When he's halfway through, he spots her.

A lone, slim figure, standing right at the end of the road, dressed in a vibrant blue dress which , although he can't see it, reflects the blue of her eyes. Her long blonde hair is billowing in the light breeze and he feels his heart racing.

"Mother!" He calls out and for a moment she acts like she can hear him, moving as though to walk in his direction. But then, she falls back and just waves. He speeds up, the sound of his footsteps echoing on the road but the faster he runs, the farther the distance between them becomes. He keeps running and running and she keeps waving, her face showing eager anticipation, as though waiting for him to reach her.

"Wait for me!" He calls out again and she laughs. A full , hearty laugh that twists his insides. The sun breaks out then and the entire scene is lit up by the bright bronzed hue of the sun's rays. He squints at that and rubs his eyes against the bright flare.

When he looks back at her, she's gone.

Draco wakes up to dark skies and cold air. Its past midnight and he can hear the soft sound of Potter's breathing.

"Are you alright?" his soft voice carries over to Draco's bed.

He swallows the dryness of his throat .

"Yes." He whispers and Potter hums a response and goes back to sleep.

Draco peers out of the broken window , into the darkness. The dreams are nothing new , neither is the feeling of despondency . The comfort from Potter's presence?

That's new.

* * *

One thing that Harry always takes consideration of while taking a photograph, is the natural lighting. He prefers keeping the flash turned off, relying solely on the sun to light up his subjects in a beautiful way. The problem that comes with this is the need to rise very early in winters.

The perfect time for a photograph , as far as winter is concerned , is confined to a very narrow slot of just five to six minutes at dawn and dusk. During winters, it's inevitably cloudy and dull, making natural lighting unflattering in all the wrong ways.

When the sun rises , however, there's a small almost imperceptible gap between the horizon and the cloud base, a thin space, through which the early morning sun light comes gushing through , setting the entire winter landscape on fire . It lasts for about three or four minutes and it is , without doubt, the perfect photo opportunity.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm letting you drag me here at such an ungodly hour." Draco wails in frustration, vision still blurred from sleep. Its early, too early for anyone to be out in the freezing weather not to mention a bit too damp, but apparently no amount of wetness can dampen Potter's photography spirit.

"Just today! Come on!" Potter's hold on his wrist is strong and firm , no doubt from years of holding his camera steady, in a bid to get the perfect shot. Draco gets dragged out of their dorms and to their old haunt, the secluded woods at the back of the main building.

The flat rock is still there, slightly wet from moisture and Draco feels a small bit of happiness that the spot holds some value to Potter. But then, it could be for an entirely different reason, one that does not involve Draco, but a boy can dream, right?

Not that he's dreaming , though. Of course not, silly.

"Wait, sit here, like this.." Potter makes him face the buildings, the shaded woods behind him . He feels supremely foolish sitting there, feeling too awkward for his own skin, unable to relax his too long limbs or his frozen face. Potter looks a bit nauseous at the sight of him and he shuffles awkwardly on his butt, trying to get a firm grip on the slippery surface.

"I'm not good at this." He mutters despondently and Potter shakes his head vigorously.

"No..No.. your perfect.. I'm just... Could you turn? Like a bit to the left?"

Draco obliges, moving tentatively and Potter yelps like a puppy, waving his arms , asking him to freeze. Draco freezes.

"Excellent, just lift you chin a bit.. a bit more...no that's too much.. Yes!" Potter practically purrs in delight .

Draco waits patiently for him to click the photo, but Potter doesn't.

"Uh, Potter?" He prompts, curious. Potter ignores him and just stares at the sky right over the buildings.

It happens without any warning whatsoever.

The first rays of the sun filter through the open landscape to his right , pouring warmth on his face and he gasps in mild surprise, face turned a bit in that direction. He feels something close to awe flooding his senses as the red-gold glow of dawn lights up the snow and frost, the light reflecting off the snow and frost on the ground and throwing the entire scene into sharp relief.

Joy, disbelief and wonder fill him in quick succession and his lips part in delight, his eyes catching the light from the sun and he curls his fingers into the rock. He feels blessed and honored, so honored to be able to witness nature at its best.

_Click. _

He turns around at the familiar whirring sound and Potter has the same awestruck look on his face.

"It's Perfect." Draco whispers, pointing at the sky and Potter nods in agreement.

"Definitely perfect." he agrees.

Except he's looking at Draco and not at the sky.

* * *

Patience is the key to perfect photography.

Beautiful things are never obvious. They need to be studied and watched closely, gently coaxed out of their hiding place. You need to be sure about what you want though. A blank and empty sky to signify desolation or perhaps darker tones to portray vulnerability.

Harry finds stories everywhere. He finds moments that beg to be captured and he feels like he's running out of time. Like he owes it to all these moments , to immortalize them forever in print. But in his rush to capture them all he sometimes misses out on the integrity of his subjects.

So, over the years, he has trained himself to wait. He watches, carefully and he waits, a bit, and then a bit more, before pressing down on the shutter and capturing a moment. When he waits though, his patience invariably pays off in a hug way.

Relationships, Harry muses, are a lot like that. You need to be patient. Let things develop on their own. Give the other person time and space, let them get used not just to you, but also to having you in their life.

It takes time.

But in the end, invariably, it pays off.

* * *

"You really are quite ridiculously good at this." Troy says , shaking his head in disbelief as he flicks through Potter's pics. The brunette smiles modestly and shakes his head.

"Its not me. It's the subject. Photography doesn't create beauty. It merely captures it." He takes another sip of his grape juice. Draco finds his modestly vaguely amusing.

"But beauty isn't easily captured. You need to chase around, slay a few dragons maybe." Draco chuckles, leaning forward to get a bite of toast off Troy's place, ignoring the way the latter swats his hands away.

"Or bring down whatever wall he's hiding behind. " Harry says, eyes trained unblinkingly on him. Draco looks away quickly , slightly uneasy about the look in the boy's face.

"He? Isn't beauty supposed to be a she?" Gerald asks innocently and Troy kicks him under the table.

"Really? I find hes a lot more beautiful than shes." Harry says mischievously and Draco's heart beats a painful tattoo against his lungs. Why on earth was Potter staring at _him?  
_

"I'm..I need... I'll be back." He stutters awkwardly, almost running out of the room in his haste to get away.

* * *

"You're a coward." Troy says cheerfully , later that day as the pair of them practice disarming each other with wandless magic. Draco is pathetic at it, never able to conjure enough mental strength to control his magic that way. He's the one with the wand and while Troy tries _expelliarmus_, he tries _protego_ .

"why the fuck is this so tough?" He stomps his foot in despair, after having the wand fly out of his hand for the third time in a row.

"you need to think about protecting your wand. As opposed to wondering if Harry's hitting on you. " Troy chuckles.

"See, you noticed as well." Draco mumbles , grimacing a bit.

"I can't actually see why you're complaining . Potter's hot." Troy drags him over to one of the benches, pushing him down on it roughly. He rummages in his backpack, pulling out a pair of drinks and tossing one to Draco.

He takes a sip, the cool sweet liquid painting his insides with pleasure.

"I'm not being a coward! Potter and I.. we're..we're just different okay? We have different ...life goals you could say.." Draco mutters.

Jesus, that was such an understatement. The prospect of him dating Potter was simultaneously terrifying and hilarious. Potter was the golden boy from Gryffindor, while he was...

Never mind.

Better not go down that line of thought.

"Why? Because he's _the _Harry Potter? You know that's a stupid reason right?" Troy says , a note of disapproval in his tone.

"What? No. No, it's not just because of he's famous." Draco says quietly.

It's because Potter was Potter and Draco was Draco. East and West. Good and Evil. Chalk and flour. Pigs and Unicorns.

Never the twain shall meet.

* * *

But the unease doesn't die down all that easily. So much so that when he walks in on Potter shrugging off his shirt, he nearly screams the dorm down.

Potter, suffice to say, is not amused.

He clutches the table in shock , one palm resting on his chest in a futile attempt to calm his pounding pulse.

"What the _fuck_," Potter swears, " is wrong with you?!"

Draco, who isn't entirely sure whats wrong with him,merely scowls.

"You can't just go around taking off your clothes!" He hisses irrationally.

Potter's jaw drops open in evident disbelief.

"I can't take my clothes off in my room?! Where am I supposed to take them off then? In the corridors?" He sneers.

"Not unless you want to get arrested for indecent exposure!" Draco retorts, although he has no idea where his train of argument is taking him.

Potter sighs in evident defeat and goes back to picking up his discarded clothes, still shirtless.

"Oh, for the love of God, I'm gay!" Draco finally yells in despair.

Potter freezes in place, slack-jawed and stunned, eyes comically widened.

"I'm gay Potter and I will thank you not to walk around shirtless." He says , in a slightly calmer tone.

"Why?"

Its Draco's turn to gape at him.

"Are you attracted to me?" the brunette straightens slowly , eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

Scary stuff.

"No! That's not what I meant! I meant you and I we should just... try not to make each other uncomfortable!" Draco hastens to get out of the hole he's inadvertently dug himself into.

Potter hesitates for a second and then shrugs.

"Okay. I won't take off my shirt."

Draco blinks. Yes, of course. That's what it was all about right?

The shirt.

"Goo. That's.. good. I'm glad we straightened that out." He nods.

"Anything else?" Potter prompts.

"What?"

"Anything else you're attracted to, that I should stop?"

Draco's heart stops .

"What the hell-"

"I'm sorry, I mean... anything else making you ... what was it... oh yeah... _uncomfortable?_" The last word rolls off Potter's tongue like liquid.

"Nothing. Nothing." Draco mutters , walking over to his bed and collapsing.

To his complete chagrin, Potter chuckles loudly before getting into his own bed .

Draco's last coherent thought is that Potter still hadn't put on a shirt.

* * *

"I think we should talk." Draco says quietly, the next morning. Potter , who is busy putting on his tie , hums his acquiescence from in front of the mirror.

Draco waits to see if he was going to say anything, but after a few minutes of silence, he plows on.

"About last night...it's best if we clear things up."

No response.

Not even a hum.

Undaunted, he continues.

"I'm not interested in relationships. I mean, I'm not saying you are, or anything but I think we could be... friends , I guess . But nothing more-"

"More?"

Draco wonders how Potter manages to grab on to the most embarrassing word in every one of his sentences. Not to mention the fact that he sounds a bit amused.

"You know... like... "

"Lovers?"

Yup, definitely amused.

Draco tries to swallow the cry in his mouth but it escapes as a strangled squawk.

"Are you choking?" Potter sounds marginally concerned now.

_No, but I wish you were._

"I know you think it's all a big joke, Potter but it's not like that with me alright? I cannot afford to get into trouble, or scandals or emotional quicksand! You know why? If I don't get out of this Academy with the best possible marks, I might as well slip a noose over my neck!"

He doesn't mean to yell. He really doesn't, but the frustration that comes from not being taken seriously hangs heavy on his head.

Suddenly though, Potter is by his side, his fingers brushing his cheek, gently wiping away the..._tears?_

Good God, when had he started crying?!

Potter draws him close for a hug and he goes into his arms without complaint. Because sometimes he needs hugs too.

"Hey, listen. It's alright. Relax , I've got you." Potter says softly and Draco is stuck by a sense of déjà vu.

The night they'd arrived at the academy, Potter had helped him up. He'd said the same thing.

"I'm sorry I upset you. We don;t have to do anything you don't want to, alright?" Potter says quietly and Draco is pretty certain that's not what he'd asked for.

But it was a start.

* * *

Potter stays true to his word.

They spend a lot of time together, studying , talking and playing and its all just brotherly fun. Troy keeps bugging him about it but he quickly hushes the taller boy. Potter was amazing to have , as a friend. He was funny, considerate, easy to get along with. The only surprising aspect was his fascination with photographing Draco , but that was something he could get used to.

"You guys would be perfect together though..." Troy says wistfully.

"Yes, we would." Draco says honestly.

"Then, why?"

"Because when it ends, we'd never be whole again!"

"It doesn't have to end." Troy protests.

Draco just smiles at that. Because he knows that the second he starts a relationship with Potter, their days together would be numbered. He was a pariah, his reputation shady at best. If they went public, which someday they would have to, Potter would be tainted by association.

And Draco doesn't have the mental strength to bear guilt of that kind.

Not when Potter was the reason he had escaped Azkaban . Friendship, though was a different thing altogether. If things got too bad, he could disappear from Potter's life without a trace.

He's good at that.

* * *

"Teach me." Draco says one day.

It's a little past sunset and the four of them are out on the lawns, playing with the swiftly melting snow. Spring is right around the corner and Draco is looking forward to it with bated breath. He wants the pleasant climate, the cool air and the gentle breeze. The smell of freshly bloomed flowers and the sound of the birds.

Spring brings hope, right after Winter's despair.

Potter , who is crouching back on his knees, trying to get the perfect shot of Troy's ridiculously pretty lashes, looks at him for a second.

"Teach you what?" He asks in amusement , leaning back a bit more . He uses a different camera today, one that offers a range of features , apparently. It doesn't make weird sounds and it doesn't require a lot of adjustments. Potter clicks photos in quick succession. Draco can't say he likes this one as much as the whirring one.

"To steal souls."

Troy snorts and Potter shoots him a disapproving glare before reaching out and tilting his head to the side. To their right, Gerald uses a small stick to write their names on the thin layer of snow covering the ground.

Potter takes another shot, peers into the screen and then sighs .

"Alright. I'll teach you. Come here." He calls out and Draco flushes in surprise.

"N-now?" He blinks and Potter grins, patting the ground next to him. Draco shuffles down from his perch on the stone bench and kneels next to him. Potter moves behind him and Draco's heart starts racing when his arms come around him, one on each side, placing the camera in his hand. Its heavy and a bit cumbersome and Draco struggles to hold it right.

"Okay. Here hold it like this." His hands close over Draco's , helping him balance the equipment, moving his index finger to the small button in the corner.

"Like this?" Draco whispers , softly, enjoying the feel of the camera in his hands. Potter nods from behind him, the movement of his head transferring to his warm chest and then to Draco's back.

"Good. Look through the viewfinder."

Draco raises the camera and peers into the small space. He can see Troy in all clarity, his eyes twinkling in the light from one of the overhead lamps on the building behind them.

"That's it? I take the picture?" He asks excitedly. He's awarded with a sharp rap on his head.

"Ow! Wha-?"

"Don't be an idiot. What are you taking a picture of?" Harry asks impatiently.

Draco looks over the camera at Troy who has lost interest in them and is now leaning over to talk to Gerald.

"Uh..Troy?" He says uncertainly.

"Why?"

Draco bites his lips in confusion.

"Because ... he's there?" he says weakly, sounding stupid to his own ears. Potter doesn't laugh at him though. Instead he smiles.

"Pictures are not just about stealing souls, Draco. You need to tell a story. Now, watch." He lifts the camera up and moves closer, his arms tight around Draco, the warmth of his chest brushing against the back of Draco's shirt. His fingers close over Draco's and he holds the camera stead, in a way that lets both of them look into the viewfinder.

"Watch closely." Potter's breath brushes his ears and he spaces out momentarily. He quickly pulls himself back though and peers closely at the scene.

Troy is leaning over the side of the bench, his torso draped over the arm rest. Gerald is speaking rapidly, explaining something to Troy with a lot of enthusiasm and Troy looks back at him absently. Its doesn't take a genius to guess that he's probably not listening to a word , but his eyes are trained on Gerald , blank affection and fondness painted on each line. Gerald has a look of hero-worship on his face as he continues talking to Troy and then it happens.

Troy leans forward , slightly, uses the tips of his finger to brush an errant strand of Gerald' hair off his forehead and the cherubic blonde wrinkles his nose cutely, eyes darting up in their sockets to follow the movement of Troy's fingers.

"Now."

Potter's fingers press over Draco's and there's a small snap.

The finished photo comes out on the screen.

It's poignant and beautiful, perfectly capturing the tender friendship their friends share. Big brother Troy who needs to always watch over baby Gerald.

Potter moves back and settles on his knees, grinning at him.

"Fun, isn't it?" he smiles softly.

Draco can only nod in fascination.

"You're right though. It does steal a bit of our soul." He says thoughtfully, peering into the screen again.

"Hmm?"

"This is a piece of them, right? Something that's supposed to be theirs. We stole it and they can't take it back." He says quietly.

Potter gives him a thoughtful smile.

"Maybe." He says softly, taking the camera out of his hands. Draco hands it over without protest. Its odd, but he's not sure he wants to try taking photographs again.

He doesn't really deserve to.

"Thank you , Potter." He says quietly, that night.

"Harry."

"What?"

"Call me Harry."

"Oh. "

Draco frowns in confusion. He's pretty certain that he has just crossed some invisible blurry not-really-there line but he has no idea how to step back. So he moves forward instead.

"Good night , Harry."

* * *

Spring arrives with a flourish and the first glimpse of the fully blooming gardens knocks the breath out of Draco's lungs. The boys rush out in droves , eager to enjoy the fresh air after weeks of being confined inside. Troy especially, who was apparently a very good swimmer back in his school.

They consequently spend a lot of time near the lake, lounging on the bank while Troy swam across the water, his sleek body cutting a nice path through the crystal waters.

One Sunday, it starts drizzling, mild and soft despite the weak sunlight caressing their faces. Draco is lying on the grassy back, feet propped one over the other and he blinks at the water droplets trickling into his eyes. He sits up then and shakes his head, hair flying back and forth as he tries to get the water out.

_Click._

He looks up at Harry , no longer bothered by the impromptu shots.

"There's a Korean fable. Apparently tigers get married when the sun shines during a rain." Draco calls out to the boy, who is crouching a few feet away. He has no idea why he says it.

Harry blinks back his shock.

"That is without a doubt the stupidest thing anyone has ever said!" Harry starts laughing.

Draco flushes red.

"It's just a fable! Stop laughing at me, I hate you! " he says defensively, pouting angrily and scratching the back of his head.

_Click._

Harry laughs again and returns back to laughing with Troy. He gathers a palm full of water and throws it at a shrieking Gerald and the pair of them begin play wrestling on the grass. Its rough and messy and Draco crawls stealthily to a spot next to the rolling pair. He carefully picks up the discarded camera, holds it like Harry has taught him to.

_Tell a story._

He peers into the viewfinder , looking for a story.

He finds billions. There's a fairytale in Harry's laugh, pure and joyful and full-lipped, a fable in the way his limbs move, strong and sure, a hero's tale in the strength of his shoulders. there's drama in every dip and curve of his body, the small cleft of his clavicle, the brush of his hair. And there's romance, tons of it, in the beautiful sparkle of his eyes.

Suddenly the thought of stealing a bit of someone doesn't sound so bad.

_Click. _

Harry looks up in shock at the sound and Draco stares back.

And then he beats his own record for stupidest thing ever said.

"You're a very beautiful story."

And Harry blushes. So beautifully and so perfectly that Draco almost melts at the sight.

_Click. _

* * *

**A/n :-**

**No reviews? Is it too terrible? Are the chapters too long or something? please let me know, I have no idea!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

Draco's head hits the flat surface of his table for the twelfth time that night and he wakes with a start. He looks around in confusion for a second, blinking back the exhaustion from his eyes.

Its well past midnight and unnaturally hot. Sweat trickles down his back and he's tempted to take his shirt off, maybe cast a cooling spell on his room. Instead he presses the heel of his palm into his eyes and rubs the sleep out of them. A cool refreshing drink would probably help and he stumbles out of his chair, making his way to the water filter in the corner. He barely takes the first drink when the door swings open and a half dead Harry stumbles in.

He looks, if possible, more exhausted than Draco feels and his eyes rest longingly on the glass of water in Draco's hand. The blonde automatically holds it out to him and her accepts it gratefully.

"God, finals are driving me crazy." Harry groans, stumbling over to his place in the bed.

"I still don't see why you're tutoring that git. He's annoying on so many levels." Draco mumbles in distaste, moving back to his chair.

"Funny, how Ernie says the same thing about you." Harry laughs and Draco snorts. Wandless magic was still his pet peeve and he had given up trying to top the class in it. a passing grade would suffice.

"We should try out some of the practical stuff for that fire manipulation spell . Maybe tomorrow?" Harry continues, pulling his shoes off and tossing them in a corner.

"Tomorrow? Troy was going to help me with Transfiguration." Draco let his eyes droop to the parchment in front of him, which carried a detailed , hour by hour schedule for the next two days. Finals started on Monday and a lot hinged on effective utilization of this weekend.

"Oh, how about now, then?" Harry says suddenly, a note of excitement in his tone.

"Now ? But where?"

* * *

"Are we even allowed to be here?" Draco peers around cautiously at the seemingly deserted rooftop. Its a clear moonlit night and there's a gentle breeze in the air. The wind is cool and comforting, like cold fingers soothing his heated skin, the chill air licking up the congealed sweat on the back of his neck. It feels divine.

"Of course! Come on..." Harry's finger's close over his wrist, tugging gently and Draco follows him around to a corner of the rooftop, over looking the lake and the woods. The roof is pretty high up and Draco feels slightly dizzy when he looks over the edge. He pulls back quickly and finds Potter photographing the moon.

"You jerk! You brought me here so you could click pictures! " He complained angrily, glancing at the discarded notes currently scattered across the rooftop. Harry has the good grace to blush.

"I'm sorry. Let's get to it."

They spend a hour or so practicing , the moon rising higher and higher in the sky, bathing them in silvery light. Draco grins when Harry almost sets fire to his hair.

"This is tough!" He mutters, awkwardly holding up a column of fire in the palms of his hand. The flames lick at the inside of his palms and he flinches a bit at the warmth. Suddenly, he winces, losing control of his magic , the fire dissolving into his hands.

"Oww!"

Draco quickly uses water from his wand to put it out, crawling over to Harry's side worriedly.

"Are you alright?" He asks quickly, pulling the brunette's injured palm to his lap. The fire hasn't hurt him , but the skin was slightly red and raw looking.

"Hold on." He pulls out his wand, waving it gently over the boy's skin. They watch closely as cold air rushes out of the end of his wand, coating Harry's skin gently.

"That feels nice." Harry says quietly, his fingers relaxing in Draco's hold.

"Yeah? Its something my mom used to do... You have no idea how often I played around with fire! My father thought I was a pyromaniac!" Draco chuckled quietly. Harry kept quiet as Draco's chuckles dies down. The wind picks up on cue and a few strands of his blonde hair fall into his eyes. Harry reaches out instinctively, brushing them back and Draco looks up in surprise, mercurial eyes glinting in the moonlight.

Harry looks away quickly, almost blinded by the others gaze.

"Your mother seems like a nice lady." He says softly. Draco hesitates a bit, unsure what to say.

"She was... unique , you could say. "

Harry hums thoughtfully. He gets to his feet , stretches his arms over the top of his head and then once again peers over the edge of the terrace.

"Fancy a walk?"

Draco blinks in shock. Its almost two in the morning, well past curfew. If they got caught...

"I still have my father's cloak."

* * *

They walk in silence, shoulders and arms brushing occasionally. Once they reach the edge of the lake, Harry pulls the cloak off and stuffs it into his backpack. There's a small path leading into the woods. It's not two dense, less than a mile long and Harry points in that direction.

"We could go that way." He points. Draco nods, not sure where this was leading. Why were they out in the middle of the night, taking walks ?

But he isn't complaining. The night was perfect for taking a walk, the wind was strong and enjoyable and he can't really ask for better company.

"No photos though!" He says quickly and Harry chuckles. However he obediently places his camera back in his bag and slings it over his shoulder. They walk in silence for a while and then Harry laughs.

"I feel oddly crippled . Not taking photos!" He admits softly, casting a sideways glance at Draco. Draco rolls his eyes at that.

"I know. I want you to stop that. Give me hundred percent of your attention!" He says impishly, knocking their shoulders together playfully. Harry smiles a little bit wider, not making any effort to move his shoulders away.

"I've taken walks like this." Draco says after a while, once they turn around to head back to the dorms.

"Oh?"

"With my mother. She was always in a hurry, though. She never let me lead, though. I was forever trying to catch up with her." Draco laughs, without any mirth.

Harry doesn't say anything to that and when they reach the edge of the lake, he motions Draco to take a seat, right near the water. Draco takes off his shoes and carefully dips his toes into the water, sighing at the even temperature, the gentle lick of the steel grey liquid against the sensitive skin of his foot.

"Tell me about your mother." Harry says bluntly. Draco smiles at that. Harry was so frank, never one to mince words. That felt good. With Harry what you saw, what you heard was exactly what you got.

"She was a handful. Sometimes she was this sweet , amazing lady who showered everyone with affection , cooked meals for dozens of people and donated to charities. At other times..." Draco falters a bit, " at other times she was so small and thin and angry looking , sharp tongued and impatient.

"She reminded me of a ticking time bomb. And the more responsibility you piled on her, the greater the detonation. I tried so hard to get her, you know. Find out what she really thought., what she really wanted, but she was always a step ahead of me and the closer I tried to get to her the farther she ran away.

" When she died, she was thirty seven. I found her in the gardens. She killed herself , you know."

A sharp intake of breath makes him look to the side . Harry looks a bit shocked.

"Surprising huh? I know my father took the blame and stuff , but he wasn't the one who actually killed her. Maybe he played a part in her decision to end things, but then... I think everyone in her life contributed in someway. Me included."

Draco pauses at that, waiting for Harry to say that it wasn't his fault. It doesn't come though and for some reason that relieves him. He doesn't need cliches.

"Do you dream of her?" Harry asks quietly.

Draco smiles at that.

"It's odd. I don't think they're dreams, at all. Their bits and pieces of my conscience I guess. I know it isn't really my fault. But then, I also know that I'm guilty of negligence. Its just that mothers are stable things in your life, you know. They're always so solid and so ... steady, you could say. I was selfish. I wanted my mom to be there for me. Didn't want to accept that I might have to be there for her instead.

"When things went wrong, when my father tried to use brute violence on me, she was always around to stop it from getting out of hand. I was used to having her running to my rescue, you know. By the time I started making efforts to help her, she was already gone. All I could do was run and run and run ... and the distance between us would never decrease. Maybe some day, I'll catch up with her. Till then I can only wait and run. My penance , I guess. "

He takes a deep breath and falls back against the grassy bank, feet still dipping into the lake.

"Whoa. The moon's really big tonight." Harry says thoughtfully, pointing at the silvery circle floating on the clouds.

"_The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas." _Draco quotes absently.

"The highwayman, by Alfred Noyes. You read poetry?" Harry asks , genuinely surprised.

" Reading poetry? That's a bit too much... I've read a handful , you could say." He smiles a bit, turning on his side to see Harry. The brunette has his legs pulled up, chins resting on the top of his knees, fingers absently pulling out strands of grass from the bank and tossing them at Draco's leg.

"You should try letting her go." Harry says quietly.

Draco looks at him across the expanse of darkness separating them.

"Maybe the reason she's running... is because you're chasing her."

Its a thought.

Draco stays quiet and they lay there for a long time. Its only when the first rays of dawn filter through the sky , that he sits up. They make their way to the dorms, quiet and silent but for once their silence speaks volumes.

* * *

Harry doesn't drink.

But sometimes, he feels drunk and intoxicated, his tongue heavy and his breath coming out in harsh rasps. His vision blurs , much like some of his shots and he can feel reality slipping through his fingers like sand . He can sometimes feel his pupils dilating, opening wider, the aperture letting in more light than necessary, the shutter speed increasing gradually, his eyelids fluttering.

The moment he can't take it anymore, when it gets a bit too much for him to handle, he makes the wise decision to move back. Take a breather. Put the hypothetical glass of alcohol back on the table and clear the cobwebs on his brain.

He moves back from his vantage point near the window, from where he's watching Draco. The blonde had his head buried in a book. Surprise , Surprise. The sunlight caught the golden strands with alacrity and his fingers itch to capture this moment. Immortalize it. But he swallows the impulse. This is Draco's. He isn't going to steal . No matter how tempting it is, taking photos of Draco while he isn't aware feels a bit like shoplifting .

How very twisted.

How oddly fascinating.

Harry is getting drunk .

On Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, his own personal brand of firewhiskey.

Always touching. Forever untouchable.

* * *

When their final exams end, they're too tired to breathe, let alone celebrate. But Troy is impossible to fight and consequently they get dragged to one of the clubs in the closest town. A shady place of questionable reputation that makes Gerald's eyes widen like a hamster caught in headlights. The place isn't one of your crumbling block of wood and rusty iron bolts, but its isn't exactly The Grande Royale either.

"This is probably a really bad idea. " Draco chokes out in a side whisper and Harry can only grin in return. Draco isn't sure why he agreed to accompany them . He hates alcohol and dancing was too far removed from his graceless existence.

They find their way to the bar and Troy barks at Gerald to 'stay in my sight at all times'. The blonde nods enthusiastically, eyes flying in a dozen directions as he takes in the excessive, gaudy decorations in the club. Draco's eyes hurt and he leans a bit to his left, in a bid to be heard.

"Did you bring your camera?" He shouts into Harry's ear. The brunette shakes his head and then begins tapping out a tune on the dull reddish surface in front of them, his feet moving in sync with the pounding rhythm of the music. The DJ screams and chants and offers witless humor that no one appreciates.

"Hey, you wanna dance?" Troy grins at him, his fingers already closing over Draco's wrist. Before he can protest , he gets dragged to the dance floor, Troy's arm snug around his waist. They begin moving and its a bit awkward, at least on Draco's part. But Troy doesn't mind apparently and soon the pair of them start gyrating on the dance floor, Draco's inhibitions dissolving into amusement.

They are, without doubt, the best looking guys in the club and a small crowd gathers, watching them dance and when the song ends, both Troy and Draco get cajoled into dancing with others.

Out of the corner of his eyes he catches sight of Harry, looking like a cool drink of water, leaning against the table. The brunette looks positively exotic in the red blue lighting and Draco can feel the pull, somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

Its a new experience, to say the least and Draco finds himself getting high on the music and the smell of cheep smoke and booze. The lights flash red and blue and green and purple and he blinks back the exhaustion, something that has culminated over weeks. He winces when someone steps on his foot and turns lightly, presenting his back to his partner.

Maybe this wasn't so bad an idea.

* * *

Harry's throat is dry . There are lights, flashing on and off in his head, neon blue and blood red, emerald green and cotton candy pink and he closes his eyes against them but they don't really go away, painted across the back of his eyelids. There was a cloudy haze on his conscience making sobriety a thing of the past. He shouldn't drink. He really shouldn't.

Except he wants to.

The sigh of Draco, a few feet away from him in someone else's arms, while he watches from the sidelines, is too painful to not warrant a need for alcohol induced numbness. He can see rows and rows of the golden liquid arranged on the shelves behind the handsome barkeep and he leans on the counter, already drunk on the atmosphere.

"A scotch. On the rocks."

The guy raises his eyebrows but moves to make the drink, and Harry turns around, his eyes automatically locking in on Draco, who is genuinely enjoying himself. He has half a mind to march up to the blonde and drag him away but he also knows that in the long run, that would be extremely counter-productive. Draco isn't ready. Harry is fated to wait, although how long he can manage to, without losing his sanity, remains to be seen.

"Here you go."

Harry's too lost in thought to remember that this isn't butterbeer. He tosses it back into his throat and nearly dies in shock. The burn is so intense he can actually feel the flames licking up his throat and he begins coughing , eyes watering. The barkeep rolls his eyes and pushes a small bottle of mineral water in his direction.

Draco is perfection. He moves with a sort of effortless grace, something he clearly doesn't know that he possesses. It only adds to his appeal. Harry watches the passion, so evident in the boy's eyes, spreading through his limbs, almost like wildfire, setting everything around him aflame. Although he's a good fifteen feet away from the blonde, Harry begins moving to the rhythm, hand already signalling the barkeep for a refill.

He doesn't know how many drinks he has and soon the lines of the crowd blur and fade, the strength leaving his limbs. He can feel himself slipping, down , down and his last coherent thought is that scotch has nothing on Draco.

Too bad he was drunk on both.

* * *

Draco can feel a dull ache in his limbs, from hours of dancing. At least it feels like hours. He wonders what time it is and then twists around to catch a glimpse of one of his friends.

Through the crowd he catches sight of something that simultaneously surprises and angers him.

Harry is leaning on a handsome, tall guy. Leaning was an understatement in fact. The brunette is almost entirely draped on the other guy, his head burrowed into his collar. Draco freezes on the spot and his partner taps him , asking him whats wrong, but he's already moving, pushing his way through the crowd .

He reaches the table just as Harry begins getting up with the guy.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Draco snaps, moving to get Harry away from the guy's predatory clutches.

"D-Dray?" Harry slurs and his head rolls back . The guy tightens his hold on harry.

"What's your problem? I'm taking him home!" The guy glares at him and Draco feels something like an aneurysm building up in his chest.

"Like hell you are. Get your filthy paws off him!" He shouts, grateful for his towering height. He grabs Harry quickly, yanking him closer but the red haired jerk refuses to let go.

"Oh, yeah! Who the hell are you-"

"What's going on here?" Troy pushes his way to the front and stares, open-mouthed at Harry.

"Good God, he's wasted." Troy prods Harry's cheek and then looks up at the redhead, who begins shuffling away, now that he's outnumbered.

"Is there a reason you're still here?" Troy asks softly, eyes narrowed and the redhead scarpers away. Draco pulls Harry close, grunting when he collapses completely.

"We need to get him back to the dorms." Draco grunts under pressure and Harry's head lolls further . This cannot end well, is the only thought running through his head.

* * *

"You owe me big time Potter." Draco groans. He struggles to get rid of the boy's shoes , almost falling off the bed in the process. It was late. Very late and he was too tired.

Harry merely grumbles , moaning a bit and rolling around. Draco takes a second to stare at the boy. His skin was milky white, oddly blemish free and nicely toned. Perfect bow shaped lips, topped by a cute nose and insanely long lashes eyelids. The full puffy cheeks added to his air of innocence and he uses the tip of his forefinger to poke into the plushy softness.

The eyelids flutter mildly.

"You're beautiful" Harry mutters. Draco blinks in shock.

"Uh... Thanks ? " He smiles softly, returning back to helping the boy.

"I like your hair."

Draco stifles a smile.

"Well, you can't have it." He chuckles playfully.

Draco takes off his other shoe and then his socks, debates about getting rid of his clothes and finally decides against it. He barely gets the blanket over him when he hears it.

A very soft barely audible sound but extremely clear in the stillness of their room.

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

Draco freezes in place, certain he has misheard.

"H-Harry?" He leans over cautiously. Harry's eyes are closed.

He almost convinces himself its all in his head when a hand reaches out, wrapping around his wrist.

"How long..." Harry rasps, roughly. His fingers dig into the soft skin on Draco's wrist and he pulls back trying to get free.

"Harry, let go." Draco says coldly, urging the brunette to unclasp his fingers.

"How long must I wait for you?"

Draco blood runs cold. And then hot.

"W-What?" he stutters. He has no idea what that means. Perhaps it's better that he doesn't. Better. Safer.

"Draco, you're so cruel..." Harry slurs.

Okay, that's it. Time to wrap up this show. Draco yanks his hand back sharply and Drunk Harry has no strength to protest.

"You're drunk. Go to bed." He says quickly, all but running to his side of the bed.

* * *

"Rise and Shine!"

Two groans punctuate Troy's annoyingly cheerful wake up call and Draco peeks out of his blanket glaring petulantly in the boy's direction.

Harry isn't so kind.

"Oh, my fucking God! Could you please shut the fuck up and oww..my head..." He ends his eloquent speech in a whimper, head cradled in his palms. Draco swallows his amusement. Clearly Harry was experiencing his first ever hangover.

" Ahh... Hi there, Potter. What's it like? Losing your alcohol virginity.." Troy snickers, prodding the prone figure on the bed.

Harry kicks out aimlessly , ends up tangled in his blankets and Troy guffaws loudly.

"Any reason why you're here at the crack of dawn?" Draco inquires, swinging his legs off the bed and stretching. His limbs feel good after a nice night of rest.

Troy rolls his eyes in exaggerated patience.

"You guys promised you'd come home with me for the break , remember?" He pokes Harry again and this time Harry's aim gets better catching the taller boy right on his jaw.

Draco stares at him in shock. Had Troy been serious about it? He had thought the boy was just being polite. He hadn't hoped to go anywhere. Maybe spend the holidays exploring the villages nearby , seeing as he would be the only one in the campus.

"Uh.. Are you sure? I mean... we.."

"If you try to pull that formal shit with me, I'm gonna break your nose Malfoy. You better pack all your shit. I'm not letting you mope here all by yourself. Gerald's already in the shower getting ready. You guys need to hurry up. Potter if you kick me one more time I swear to God-"

Draco watches the two of them wrestle on the bed, Harry wailing about 'cruel annoying highland sods' and Troy screeching about ' Rude drunkards'.

After eighteen years in the wizarding world, he can safely say that the most magical thing was Friendship.

* * *

"So where exactly are we heading?" Draco asks carefully as they stand outside the gates , waiting for the cab that would take them to the village. Its sunny and hot, almost lunchtime and Harry has on a pair of ridiculous huge shades in a bid to keep the brightness out of his eyes. He also winces at the slightest increase in volume, which was why Draco was resorting to mumbled whispers.

"Scotland!" Gerald trills in a shrill tone, ignoring the glare that Harry tosses his way.

"Scot- Wait! Aren't you from London?" Harry blinks at Troy who grins maniacally.

"Yes, but my parents booked us a castle in Scotland."

Draco is pretty certain his jaw has hit the floor.

"Castle?! Are you serious?" He stares in shock.

"Yup. Its the kind of thing they do." Troy shrugs nonchalantly.

"Sounds good." Harry gives a thumbs up and then groans a bit.

"There's just one problem , though."

Draco is almost afraid to ask.

"We need to use muggle means to get there."

Oh, fuck.

* * *

**A/n :- Have a heart and leave me a review... I worked very hard on this. * flops down in exhaustion *Also sorry about any mistakes its twelve in the night and I'm too brain dead to proof read... Do point them out any if you find any...  
**


	5. Chapter 5

A conversation no one remembers:

"You're going to regret this , Harry."

"Probably."

"You think this is funny? Do you even care that he's a-"

"You better think twice before you finish that sentence Ron. I'm not feeling very nice at the moment. "

"Fine. Just tell me why?"

"Why?"

"Why on earth would you give this up?! Give up your career, your fame , wealth just to-"

"Because he's real."

* * *

The term 'castle' turns out to be a slight exaggeration.

"You have got to be kidding me." Harry mutters in disbelief while Draco sniggers at the look of disbelief on Troy's face. The address their provided with belongs to an old dilapidated mansion which looks a few seconds away from crumbling into the gravel. Draco thinks it looks antique-y. Harry thinks it's a death trap.

"I'm not letting Draco sleep in there tonight." Harry says firmly, arms folded across his chest and Draco blinks at his choice of words. Troy leers at them for a second before turning back to the building.

"My parents are waiting in there I guess." He says , tone slightly subdued and Draco takes pity on the poor boy.

"Hey, its alright. The place is beautiful! I mean, look, a private beach, rocky coves and a pathway to the cliffs. Its perfect!" He smiles soothingly and Troy offers him a slightly grateful smile. Once they enter the house though, his smile blooms into a full blown grin.

Troy's parents turn out to be quite young, very much in love . They clearly dote on their son and hug Harry and Draco with equal fervor.

"Last time he came home, Troy couldn't shut up about the pair of you! He kept telling me how much he missed you and how much he preferred being with you to visiting us," she pouts prettily.

"So, Smyrna and I insisted he bring you guys along for the Summer break. So glad you could come." his father smiles gamely, patting Draco on the back. He is strong and Draco's knees almost buckle under the pressure.

Once they settle into their rooms, individual for a change, Draco opens all the windows, amazed at how windy it was. His room overlooked the cliffs and part of the beach and although it was late evening the sun was high and strong.

A knock on the door alerts him to Harry's presence and the brunette smiles. Draco groans when he catches sight of the camera in the boy's hand.

"Already? I'm exhausted!" He whines because he's tired and hungry. And a hungry Draco is a whiny Draco.

"Oh, come on! Just around the house. I saw this little rock near the drive way..."

In the end Draco ends up standing on said rock, grinning like a fool while Harry tries to capture a shot of the cliff and the ocean behind him .He tries different poses and then loses interest once he realizes that he isn't the subject in the photo. Just a small detail, included in a bid to add a personal touch.

He finds himself looking at the road leading up to the cliffs, bordered by odd little trees. It reminds him of the road from his dream and for a moment his mind almost conjures up the form of his mother in the blue dress, waiting for him at the top of the path. The sound of the camera draws him back to the present and Harry looks disappointed.

Its clearly a stupendous failure and after few more shots, Harry gives up.

"You're definitely not made for this." He grumbles , earning a sharp jab in the ribs from Draco.

* * *

Harry is an artist because a photograph is a lot like a painting. Just like a painting, there's plenty of push and pull tactics, simple strokes of light and shadows, hues and tones, brightness and contrast all aimed at creating the perfect shot.

Just like a painting, a photograph aims to draw your attention to certain parts of it , making you observe and re-observe particular aspects of the picture. Like the Mona Lisa, which draws the viewer's attention to her smile, rather than the scene behind her.

When Harry asks Draco to stand on the rock and tells him that he wants to cover the cliff and mountains, he had lied. He had also lied when he said it was a failure.

The picture , once it's developed, will show Draco, looking out into the distance , unadulterated longing in his eyes. The kind of longing, Harry wishes would someday be directed at him.

* * *

"I think my fingers are lonely." Draco whispers, when they take a walk later that night after dinner.

It's a wonderful starlit night and Draco can hear the waves , so close by. The path leading to the cliffs is littered with pointy rocks and he tries his best to avoid them, still ends up stepping on a few. The path is narrow enough to instigate some physical contact between the pair but Harry keeps moving away, fingers buried in his pockets and eyes fixed on the road.

He wants to bait Harry , because the brunette has been steadily ignoring him the entire day, spending his hours reading, curled up near the window seat in the parlor or taking photographs from the back porch.

It's nothing new.

Harry has these episodes, short or long slots of time during which his soul apparently goes for a walk or something leaving behind a shell that performs all basic functions of life but shows no emotion whatsoever. Usually Draco leave shim alone at such times, preferring to annoy Troy or play with Gerald.

It's Draco's luck that today, he's stuck with soulless Harry all by himself.

Troy and Gerald have gone off to drop their parents at the airport and haven't returned home yet, leaving Harry and Draco to fend for themselves. The brunette is clearly in one of his moods, as witnessed by the sheer amount of pleading Draco has been forced to do, just to make him get out of the house for a walk.

"Your fingers are lonely?" Harry asks in evident disbelief, eyes shifting to glance down at the objects in question. Draco holds them up for good measure and wriggles them in front of Harry's face.

"Yes, they are. Don't be mean to them." Draco pouts prettily. Something shifts in Harry's eyes and he grins, shaking his head. Draco stares sideways at him, expecting something else but Harry keeps walking and the blonde frowns. How rude.

How rude and cruel and absolutely inconsiderate-

"Come here." In the night, Harry's voice is hypnotic, the tone soft enough to comfort, hard enough to invite trust. He moves closer without a second thought.

Harry tugs on Draco's fingers, looping them with his and Draco feels like he's won some sort of a war.

* * *

The first time Harry sees Draco, after the war, is in the Ministry , in shackles.

_He watches the blonde, ragged, dirty , hair standing up on all ends with chains around his wrists and for the first time , he feels something close to pity , for a boy who had only ever invited disdain. _

_"Isn't that...a bit too dramatic?" He half whispers to Hermione who looks positively livid._

_"I know! The filthy bastards! He's just a boy for God's sake!" Her lower lip trembles in indignation and even Ron looks a bit unsettled at the sight of one of their former classmate being treated like a caged animal. _

_Harry wonders what Draco must be feeling at the moment. One moment, heir to the biggest, richest pure blood family in the world and the next, reduced to a monster, a traitor and a murderer's son. _

_He finds out, soon enough, when Kingsley presses a file into his hands and pushes him in the direction of the Dungeons. _

_"Go find out all you can from him."_

_Harry is too shocked to refuse. He has no intention of getting caught up in the ministry's affairs. What he wants is to testify for Narcissa and for Draco because he owes it to her. A job in the ministry is too far removed from his aspirations and he merely grunts at Kingsley._

_"Okay. Just this once though." He snaps. _

_When he reaches the cell, he finds Draco cowering against a corner with one of the guards leering at him through the bars. Disgust and annoyance flare up quite rapidly and he clears his throat, fingers already closing over his wand. _

_The guard jumps at the sound and moves away without complaint and Harry is partially disappointed. He would have loved an excuse to hex the man. Once the man moves out of earshot, he lets himself in. The small vial of Veritaserum rests heavily in his pockets._

_"Malfoy." He says evenly. _

_No response. _

_"Malfoy, I don't have time for this. " _

_"..."_

_"Listen, Malfoy . I need you to help me out here. Where's your father?"_

_"..."_

_"Can you confirm that Voldemort threatened you and your family? " _

_"..."_

_"Malfoy, your mother's the only reason I'm standing in this place wasting my time. If you give a shit about her, at least a part of what I feel for her, you'll open that mouth of yours and let me know exactly what-"_

_"She's dead."_

_Harry freezes, on the spot . It's odd how one small intake of breath on his part had seemingly depleted all the air in the cell. _

_"Wh-What?" He stares in shock at the boy curled in the corner and Draco looks up. _

_A billion emotions flit through Draco's face , yet Harry can only glimpse the absolute defeat in the boy's face. The loss, despair and the hopelessness of someone who knows there's nothing left for him to look forward to._ _His eyes are washed out and colorless , pale grey . His pallor is ashen and his hair looks more white than gold. The tips of his fingers are cinereous and his cheeks are tinged blue grey from the veins underneath. _

_Draco's gaze drops back to the floor. The cold , steel grey floor. _

_Grey, he learns is the color of depression. _

_The color of lost hopes and broken dreams. _

_"My mother is dead, Potter." _

_Draco's voice is soft and lost, mildly confused and sleepy sounding. Like he isn't certain if he'd dreamed the whole thing. _

_The boy looks up again and he stares straight into Harry's soul._

_"She's dead. So you don't owe me anything." He says clearly.  
_

_And perhaps it's a little twisted that Harry falls in love. _

_Not just with the boy who looks up at him, with so much distrust that it twists Harry's gut, not just with the sight of the boy on the floor but also with monochrome. _

He does help him, of course. He makes sure Draco gets acquitted. He spends the entire trial taking virtual photographs of the blonde and by the end of it he's more unhealthily obsessed than ever. Capturing Draco on print becomes his dirty fantasy and he tosses and turns

But when he tries to find the blonde again there's no entire Malfoy fortune is seized. The Manor is demolished and a branch of St. Mungo's in built in its place and Harry is worried , because how on earth was Draco surviving with no money or connections?

Harry goes insane looking for him , because for the first time in his life he wants something. Badly.

His friends doubt his sanity.

Harry isn't sure what's wrong with him but he knows what the cure is. When he hears about Draco joining the Auror academy , he applies at once, pulling strings with a little guilt, in a bid to get in. It does feel reckless and pointless .

A gamble that may not even be worth it.

But he knows that every time he takes a snap, it's a gamble. He doesn't know how that picture's going to turn out. It's all about taking chances and stepping out of the box. All's good, as long as he plays by the rules.

Now, months later, Harry is beginning to wonder if he's the one being played.

* * *

The first time Draco wakes up that night, it's from a dream. A dream that he can't remember. He fluffs his pillow rolls around for a while, pushes off his blankets then pulls them back up , before settling on his side, pillow wedged between his thigh and an arm thrown across the bed.

He falls asleep and after fifteen minutes he wakes up again.

A glass of water, he tells himself, will cure all the problems in the world.

He tiptoes into the hallway, steps around the patch of moonlight streaming in through the windows and makes his way to the kitchen. His body is on auto pilot and he barely gives a thought to the way he pulls out a glass, washes it, fills it with clear water or tips the contents back into his throat.

He does, however enjoy the coolness of the liquid as it rushes down his esophagus, filling him with satisfaction.

Its a bit too humid, the salty sea air leaving a wet and sweaty sheen on his kin and he peers into the living room, wondering if there were any windows he could open, maybe let some air in.

Instead he's greeted by the sight of Harry, sitting cross-legged on a patch of moonlight, right in front of the window, camera in hand.

Draco creeps in next to him and Harry doesn't acknowledge him, even when he sits uncomfortably close to the brunette, their sweaty slick thighs brushing against each other.

Draco waits for a second before reaching out, his fingers curling on the pert nose, twisting it as far as it would go.

Harry lets out a yelp, scrambling to his knees and shaking Draco off.

"What the- Ouch! Draco why would you do that!"

"Just because." Draco grins at the brunette who stares back at him in disbelief and then settles back into the floor. He still has that vacant look on his face and Draco wonders if his soul's wandered off too far and is now struggling to find its way back. He reaches out and twines their fingers together and squeezes, despite the heat and the sweat and the disgusting feeling of wet skin on skin.

After a few minutes though, Harry squeezes back. He looks up at Draco and smiles.

"Fingers lonely again?" He grins .

_Welcome back, Harry. _

"Let's go back." Draco whispers and Harry nods, pulling on Draco's hand and the blonde blinks.

"Uh.. Harry? You can let go, now."

"I just don't want you to get lost."

"Get lost?"

"On the way to your room. You're lucky to have me, you know." Harry grins.

"Oh."

Draco fights down the grin that threatens to break out .

"Besides, did you hear about the crazy nose attacker on the loose? I heard he's a real creep."

Draco let's Harry have the last word.

* * *

They go back to the cliff the next evening, all four of them. There's a small ledge, lining the pathway and Draco walks on it, one hand held out . Troy walks next to him, holding the blonde's hand , in case he loses his balance. Harry walks a few feet away, occasionally taking photos of Draco's face, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"The view on top of the cliff is amazing. you shouldn't waste your film" Troy calls out, while Draco bounces on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah! I'm no match for Scotland's cliffs in terms of beauty." Draco says.

"I'm sure it's the other way round." Harry's lips quirk up and Troy mimes vomiting.

Harry presses the shutter just as Draco begins to laugh.

"This is weird, Harry! Stop taking photos when we're talking!" Draco pouts .

_Click._  
"He's obsessed. Nothing we say is going to make him stop." Troy says sagely.

"Troy! My feet hurt!" Gerald's lower lips begin trembling and Troy rolls his eyes but obediently gets on his knees, piggy backing the smaller boy.

Draco watches the scene in mild disbelief and waits for Harry to finish photographing it.

"He's such a baby. I'm surprised he joined the auror academy!" Draco shakes his head.

"I think Gerald's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He just doesn't see the need for it. Not when Troy takes so much pleasure in babying him." Harry laughs.

Draco shoots him a soft smile.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was wondering how many people get to photograph _your _smile."

Harry grimaces.

"No one, thank God."

"Lucky for them, eh?" Draco teases and holds out his hand, swaying a bit on the ledge. Harry obediently grabs hold of him, yanking a bit playfully. Draco loses his balance and falls off crashing onto the boy.

Hands occupied with his camera, Harry has no other option but to wrap and arms around Draco's waist , theirs chests flush against each other. Draco let's out an 'oh' of surprise, both palms resting on Harry's shoulder and noses bumping awkwardly. Draco's heart pounds so hard he forgets breathing, taking a hasty step back and nearly falling again, making Harry tighten his arms around him.

"Are you alright, Dray?" Harry asks, so softly that Draco blushes . The words caress his ears and he can feel himself getting hot at the way the syllables roll off Harry's tongue.

He quickly pulls back and away from the brunette . Harry looks mildly amused and then begins shaking his head and laughing.

Draco stares at the boy, the way his hair falls into his eyes and he thinks that Harry looks a bit too beautiful.

Draco's just a boy of nineteen, too young to know the ways of the world.

But he's old enough to know what that thought means. So he buries it , down, deep down as far as it would go.

* * *

_A conversation only one of them remembers :_

"If you could write a love story for yourself, what would it be like?"

"Just like ours."

"Very funny. Alright. If you can choose the moment you get to fall in love, what would that be like?"

"Just like this moment."

"You're no fun! I'm gonna go ask Troy!"

* * *

After their little episode in the cliffs, Draco finds that he's feeling something akin to desperation everytime he comes in contact with Harry.

It's not that he wakes up one day and realizes that something's changed in the way he watches Harry. That his eyes want to linger, not just on his face but on the curve of his lips, the edge of his jaw, the exposed skin of his neck. His fingers want to grip, not just the strength of his shoulders and the slender digits of his hand but also his lean waist.

He begins losing his mind, slowly and painfully. Suffocating when Harry gets too close, choking when he gets too far.

As they spend time together, Harry touches him . Not too often and never in an intrusive way , but every time his fingers traces the back of his palm or brush back his hair, Draco's throat goes dry and his heart stops pumping blood and he feels like a fool because he has no idea if Harry feels half of what he's feeling.

In fact he's certain that Harry doesn't. What he's feeling is painful and confusing and if Harry felt any of it, he would be running as far away from Draco Draco as possible, not moving closer and closer.

"You seem tense." Harry says one evening, as the pair of them sit on the back deck, glasses of bubble tea in hand , watching the waves break out on the rocks. Slow but persistent , gradually breaking the rock's resistance and carving its way into its heart.

"What do you want?" Draco says, a little bit of desperation in his tone. Harry doesn't turn to look at him. Instead he takes a picture of the rocks and the sea.

"That's a pretty loaded question. With a lot of answers."

Draco stares at him, wondering why he was more confused now than before.

"Sometimes i can't understand you at all." He says quietly, shaking his head.

Harry hums and then pats him on the shoulder.

* * *

One day, Draco settles down for a game of chess with Troy and Harry sidles in next to him.

"Are you winning?" He asks quietly and Draco shoots him a glare, which gets photographed promptly. It's like Harry knows what to say , how to manipulate Draco's thoughts and emotions, how to make him look and feel a certain way , just so he could steal that part of him away.

How evil.

At first Draco doesn't notice that Harry's sitting a bit too close for comfort, because as roommates, they've lived on top of each other. But after a while he becomes aware of the warmth of Harry's thigh, solid and strong against his own, evident even through the layers of jean separating them.

He tries to move away, surreptitiously, but Harry only moves closer.

"Try this."

His fingers flutter over Draco's thigh, intentionally or not Draco would never know, reaching for his queen and Draco tries not to jump out of his skin, gritting his teeth as his muscles stiffened, his nerves tingling uncomfortably. He licks his lips and Harry's eyes flicker up at the movement, a gentle smile tugging at his lips and Draco's gut clenches in embarrassment. But the brunette moves closer, his bare arm now brushing against Draco's and he tries to swallow the desperate urge to get up and just _run._

"Well, this is entertaining." Troy says suddenly and Draco looks at his opponent for the first time since Harry's arrival. Troy is leaning back in his armchair, amusement shining out of his eyes .

Draco scrambles in a bid to put space between him and Harry and fails miserably.

"He's just helping me with chess." He says almost desperately.

"Oh, is that what they call it these days?" He leans forward looking very intrigued.

Harry reaches out and clonks him on the head but his eyes are laughing and Draco wonders if he's the only one suffering.

* * *

Harry, Draco soon realizes, takes the way he's shying away from him , as some sort of a twisted challenge to get closer than ever. The more he moves away, the closer Harry gets touching him at odd inopportune moments and Draco's not sure if he's imagining this because his senses, as far as Harry's concerned, have been inexplicably heightened. Every time the brunette gets close, a slow simmering fire starts at the pit of his stomach, reaching out in gentle upward licks , drying his throat and turning his insides into molten goo.

He's almost tempted to ask Harry if he feels the same way but he's saved the trouble later that week.

"I really like you."

Draco freezes on the spot, fingers stopping in mid air, inches from picking up a slice of apple, neatly placed on the tray. They're in the dining room, Harry sitting with a set of photographs spread out in front of him and Draco with a knife and a few uncut apples in a basket.

"You..what?"

"I know you don't care but I think it's only fair that you should know. I mean, for all I know, you could be confused, wondering if I was trying to play with your feelings or if I was giving you wrong signals or something like that. So, I just want to make things clear. I'm attracted to you and I really like you." Harry says , almost carefully.

Like he's announcing the weather. Like his words aren't carefully calculated to turn Draco's world upside down.

"You're out of your mind."

What else could he say?

Harry smiles serenely.

"Probably, yes. But it's too late now. So will you go out with me?"

"I.. I.."

"Just a date. One date." Harry looks hopeful.

Silence reigns for a few minutes and Draco stares down at the apple in his hand .

"Alright. But just one date." He whispers , so quiet he can barely hear himself.

He steels a glance at Harry , who's grinning from ear to ear. Draco feels a blush rushing up his body, the blood flooding his face so quick it makes him dizzy.

"Don't .. Don't look at me like that." He whispers, mortified to sound like a sixteen year old girl.

"Do you want me to leave now?" Harry reaches out, placing a soft hand on Draco's palm and it takes all his willpower not to grab Harry and hug him. Instead he manages a weak smile. His mind is a few seconds away from collapsing in on itself and he is too confused to think straight.

So he answers the question at face value and shakes his head.

"No, I don't want you to leave now. "

"Okay. Go ahead, eat your fruit. It's good for you."

Harry smiles again, serene and perfectly at peace with the world.

* * *

On their last day of vacation, the four of them take a trip down to the beach. Gerald staggers under the eight of a huge ice box, filled to the brim with watermelon. Draco offers to help him but Harry pushes him away, lifting the box himself.

"You have a history with helping Gerald. Go play with Troy." the brunette shoos him away and Draco rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the tingling at the base of his spine. Harry's nice. So nice and sweet and temptation doesn't come better than those lush red lips but he's made of stronger stuff.

He finds Troy struggling with a beach umbrella, cursing fluently in an attempt to get it open. When he's a few feet away the huge thing flies open, nearly poking Troy's eye out and giving Draco a heart attack.

"Holy fucking Cow! Why on earth would people carry shit like this?" Troy mutters from his position in the ground, spitting out some wayward sand. Draco laughs and positions the umbrella in a favorable position before prodding Troy with his toes, asking him to move. The boy moves a bit and the blonde settles next to him, automatically relaxing into the taller boy's shoulders.

"So... anything you want to tell me?" Troy teases and Draco scowls.

"You asshole, I can't believe you eavesdropped on our conversation!"

Troy laughs unrepentantly and pokes his cheeks.

"As your self appointed love-guru , I -"

"My what?!"

"I feel obliged to point out that you, good sir, are an idiot of the highest order. You could have gotten laid last night!" He pokes him again, a bit more harshly this time.

"Shut up." Draco says grumpily, unwilling to accept the taller boy's conclusion. What did Troy know?

"The guy's got a thing for you for God's -"

"Will you keep it down?! " Draco hisses, reaching out and clamping his palm on Troy's mouth. But Harry's poking around a small rocky cove, only the top of his hair visible. He peeks over the edge of the cave occasionally and waves at them. Gerald is in the water, playing with one of the dogs that lived in the mansion.

"But the guy's brave. You have to give him that."

"He's also stupid. Why else would someone say something like that?" Draco frowns, mind still partially reeling from the emotional assault from earlier. He feels oddly jubilant though, like there's a permanently blown happy bubble inside him.

"No, he isn't. He's just a tad bit reckless, but I wouldn't expect anything less from Harry Potter who walked into Voldemort's clutches , ready to die with head held high."

"You sound like a fangirl." Draco teases playfully.

" I just think he's amazing. You should be grateful "

"I am . " Draco says quietly, but Troy is already getting up running to the edge of the water screaming, " Gerald , get the hell out of the deep end!"

He settles back against the sand, closing his eyes and listening to the gentle , rhythmic lull of the ocean. Harry is good, too good for him. But Harry likes him. At least a little bit, he's sure. Why else would he ditch all his friends and hang out with him? Why else would he ask him out?

_But why?_

That was a definite mystery. There wasn't anything remotely good in Draco. Nothing that would attract the golden boy to him. Harry by comparison is a genuinely nice guy. It's just a date anyway. Nothing solid. They weren't in love with each other or anything.

Besides, Harry probably only asked him out of boredom or something.

But Draco's a young boy, still not familiar with the ways of the world, so he tells himself that maybe, maybe Harry likes him for himself.

* * *

**A/n : I originally planned this as five chaptered. Clearly I'm incapable of organizing my thoughts the way I want to. So yeah, this is getting dragged a bit. Sorry! Thanks for the very lovely reviews...:) :) They make me want to write more****! :)  
**


	6. Chapter 6

It occurs to Draco that night, that they hadn't made any sort of plan for their supposed date. He wonders if it would be a tad too desperate if he were to walk up to Harry and ask him about it. He's a little worried that it would come out mildly scary so he settles for brooding in private , while he packs up his clothes to leave the next day.

He grabs a smooth pebble, something he'd picked up at the beach earlier and carefully slips it into his bag, just as Troy appears at the door way, loud and raucous. He has a face mask on, an ugly shade of green and Draco stifles his laughter at the side.

"All set for tomorrow? Need something?" He asks chirpily ,glancing around the room expectantly. Draco rolls his eyes and shakes his head and Troy flounces into the room, jumping on the bed. Draco winces when three of his folded shirts get mussed up , but he can't bring himself to yell at Troy who looks like a village idiot : pathetic and pity inspiring. When he moves closer to get the shirts, he sniffs the air at the familiar scent.

"Why do you smell like Harry?" Draco blurts out, before he can filter his thoughts and censor them in his head. Troy raises his eyebrows in shock.

"Harry? I just smell like apples. Wait a minute, how do you know how Harry smells?" Troy narrows his eyes at Draco and the blonde fights hard to keep the blush down. Troy was like a shark sniffing blood in water when it came to Draco's discomfort.

"I live with him, Troy. Of course I know what he smells like." His voice comes out a bit bitter and there's ringing silence for a second.

"Okay, spill."

Draco looks up in confusion and Troy is lying belly down on his bed, chin resting on the V of his entwined fingers and he looks too ridiculous to invite confidence, so Draco just laughs.

"There's nothing to spill." Draco smiles , refolding one of the messed shirts and carefully placing them in his suitcase. Troy waits till he's done before reaching out and pulling on Draco's arm till he flops down next to the boy.

"Go on , blondie. Tell me what's got that pretty little head of yours in a rut and I'll help you out." He ruffles Draco's hair playfully and Draco pushes him away in mock disgust.

"Stop that! It's nothing. Just something silly. Harry and I didn't get any details sorted out for our date and I was just curious-"

"Is that all? Hold on a second - HARRY!" Troy finishes the last few syllables in a banshee howl that knocks ten years off Draco's life.  
Draco flails , trying to get the other to shut up, but its too late and they're greeted by the site of a panting Harry, fresh out of the shower looking incredibly sexy and hot and _wet. _Jesus, someone open a window!

He looks wildly at the pair of them.

"Are you alright, Troy?" He asks worriedly and Draco crawls away from the taller boy hastily. He tries to gather his thoughts , which are currently trying to tell him how lovely the boy's hair looks, wet and curled near his nape.

"Yes , of course he's-"

"Draco wants to know when you guys are going on the date."

_I'm murdering him in his sleep, _Draco thinks in desperation while trying to look normally at Harry, when in fact he wants nothing more than to disappear through the floor.

"No...it's just...I was.." Draco stutters but Harry begins smiling gently and he shuts up.

"I just thought we could get back home before going out. Impatient , are we?" Harry smirks a bit deviously , hands reaching up to pull on the slightly wet towel around his neck and Draco agrees that yes, Harry Potter is too handsome for his own good.

"What?! No.. I just... I don't mind.. We can do it soon. I mean, the could go on the date soon. Or later... anytime really , I don't..." He stops when Troy throws him a look of abject pity.

"Alright. You better get to bed, both of you. Good night Troy." Harry smiles at the boy and then walks out, throwing one last heated glance in Draco's direction.

Draco waits till his footsteps fade away before pouncing on Troy.

* * *

Their trip back is too rushed and Draco and Harry get very little privacy, especially when Gerald had dragged away a protesting Harry to sit with him, before either Draco or Troy could protest. Consequently, Draco and Troy spend the entire train ride back home bickering and when they finally reach their dorms, Harry is so exhausted that he leans heavily on Draco, who supports the smaller boys weight with an arm around his waist.

They wait a bit in the reception to get their keys and Draco's skin feels unnaturally hot and scratchy from the way Harry leans into him, trying to curl his body into the curve of Draco's spine. While Troy signs the forms , Draco watches a small drop of sweat trickle down the side of Harry's face, following its path diligently with his eyes until it reaches his jaw and then when he looks back up he finds Harry watching him and he turns as red as a tomato.

When they reach their room, after bidding good night to Gerald and Troy, Draco carefully closes the door and turns around to get ready for bed, only to be assaulted by a handful of Harry.

"I missed you." the brunette sounds all soft and sleepy and Draco fights down a smile, gently guiding him to his bed and lowering him to the mattress. He begins moving away but Harry's hands flutter down from his bicep to his wrist and he gives a little tug, prompting Draco to sit next to him. Harry sits cross legged while Draco leans back into the brunette's chest , tired and weary from their journey.

"About that date...is there anyplace you want to go?" Harry's breath is hot against his ear and Draco leans back a bit, only slightly flinching when Harry's lips touch the sensitive skin just below his ear. His arms rest around Draco's waist with easy familiarity, the fingers splayed flat over his belly-button.

"Nowhere. You pick." Draco says tiredly because he wants Harry to be comfortable on their first date and then maybe they would have another. Also, sleepy Harry's voice is hypnotic and smooth, like expensive wine and comfy pillows and something else that reminds Draco of home.

"How about the lake? At mid night? I'll pack us some food." Harry whispers, the movement of his lips transferring to the skin near Draco's neck and he melts a little bit more , because it seems like the most romantic place for a date. Oh, God if Troy should hear his thoughts right now!

"Okay." Draco sighs, feeling as if his bones are melting, turning him weightless. Harry hands run up and down his arm, slow and light, occasionally applying pressure on his wrists.

"Next Saturday." Harry almost coos , clearly too sleepy to sound suave.

A part of Draco's mind tells him that's almost a week away but he swallows it. Harry had asked him out. It was only fair that he got to pick.

"That's fine with me." He's already half asleep and Harry hums a bit, chin resting on his shoulders now and it takes all of his will power to peel himself away from the smaller boy, gently easing him down to a sleeping position and tucking him in.

"Good night, Harry." He begins moving away but the fingers are around his wrist again, tugging him down and he flushes, leaning down self consciously. Harry gets up on his elbows and places a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Sleep well, Dray."

Draco almost floats back to his bed.

* * *

They get Saturday off with just a few review sessions and by two in the afternoon, they assemble on the floor of Troy's room, well fed and drowsy. Troy drags a mattress to the center of the floor and adjusts the screen of his laptop, in a way that all of them could get a clear image.

"No one watches horror movies in the afternoon. You're a bunch of scaredy cats! " Harry rolls his eyes but Troy gives him a withering look.

"The only reason we're watching this now is because you and blondie are going away on a romantic getaway tonight. " He leers at Draco who pummels him on the back with closed fists.

Gerald , who had been unusually quiet , shuffles over to Troy and blinks.

"What is it, Ger? " Troy asks fondly, reaching out to the boy with one hand and Draco and Harry watch in amusement as the boy curls into Troy's form, head slipping to his lap and limbs going loose. Troy frowns in exasperation, but he's already picking up a pillow slipping it between his thigh and Gerald's head and threading his fingers through the boy's hair, making the latter close his eyes at once.

"It's like he's your pet cat or something. Always wanting to be stroked." Harry says in bemusement.

Troy shrugs, residual fondness still shining out of his eye.

"Maybe, but he brings sunshine into my life. Some people are meant to bring happiness , you know. " Troy smiles down at the boy and Draco glances instinctively at Harry and finds him staring back . He feels blood rush to his face and looks down to where his hands are curling in his lap.

"Anyway, let's go out next weekend!" Troy starts eagerly.

"No clubbing!" both Harry and Draco glare at each other.

"What the-" Draco splutters because why is he being glared at?!

"Why are you-" Harry rolls his eyes as if he wasn't the one who'd messed up their last clubbing experience.

"You're the lightweight that can't handle his alcohol!" Draco glares.

"At least I don't dry hump my partners on the dance floor." Harry sneers back.

Troy holds up in his hands in defeat.

"Ladies, ladies. Retract your claws . No drinking, no dancing, no getting laid. I get it! Although you might as well sign up for your chastity belts and-ow!" This time when Draco clamps his hand on the boy's mouth, Harry's fingers close over his own and Draco blinks at the sudden sensory pleasure shooting up his spine.

They stare at each other in shock and then Harry starts laughing, eyes twinkling and Draco thinks he looks a little bit too beautiful.

He pulls his fingers back, his heart thrumming.

"Okay, that's weird. Stop making eyes at each other. I feel like a third wheel! " Troy pouts sadly and both Harry and Draco freeze.

"What?" Troy asks curiously, pulling his lower lips back in letting his eyes return back to their normal state.

"Wow, for a second there you looked really..." Draco struggles to find a word that wouldn't offend the manliest boy in their gang.

"Adorably fluffy." Harry sniggers. Troy's eyes widen in horror and he lunges at the smaller boy.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK, HARRY POTTER!"

In the end they fall asleep like that, Draco with his head in Harry's lap and his torso draped over Troy. Harry stays awake, staring at the scene in front of him. It takes a bit of effort but he manages to reach out and grab his camera.

Some stories, he muses are just too beautiful to pass up.

_Click. _

* * *

In the end, Harry makes Troy steal food for them from the kitchen after bribing him with promises of introduction to Hermione. Draco tries to interject with phrases like ' bossy-know-it-all' and ' hair like a bird's nest' but Harry's awesome photography skills carry through and Troy takes one look at her pic and is smitten.

And so, at eleven thirty that night, both Harry and Malfoy sneak out of the dorms, arms laden with their picnic basket and cloak draped over their shoulders. Once they reach the lake, Harry makes quick work of the blanket, spreading it out on the grassy bank. Draco settles down on it, reaching out and dipping his legs in the lake. It's a bit chilly but only for a second. He wriggles his toes playfully and Harry slips a bit closer to him, letting his foot sink in next to Draco's.

They play around for a while, splashing water on each other and then Draco pulls his legs out.

"You okay?" Harry asks softly and Draco turns around to stare at him , a little apprehensive. There are so many things wrong with this , a part of him screams. But there's a part of him that longs, so badly , for this simplicity. Longs and has longed, all his life. Just this, the chance to relax and be himself and play around with water in the moonlight.

"I'm not sure." He admits, honestly.

"Tell me. " Harry says and for once his voice isn't relaxed. Instead it's a bit urgent and anxious.

"We're not... We'll never make it, you know." Draco sighs, dipping his legs back into the water, just as Harry pulls it out.

"Why? Because I'm famous?" There's a hint of bitterness in his voice and Draco hates himself for bringing this up. It was just a date, a small amount of time spent together. Too soon for heart to heart conversations.

"It's nothing. I just.. I don't want you to get hurt." He says truthfully.

"Because of you? Because I'm with you?" Harry's voice is a lot softer now, the bitterness replaced by concern.

"I.. Yes.. I mean... I'm.."

"You're Draco. A really nice looking, soft spoken young boy who is intelligent and charming. Smart enough to get into the best college in the country and nice enough to forgive people who've made his life hell. Why would I ever give you up?" Harry asks, reaching out and wrapping an arm around his shoulder but Draco shrugs it off.

"That's.. that's not what everyone else thinks." He mutters.

"No it isn't. And I won't say something stupid like , it doesn't matter what others think. Because it does, I know it does. And it's going to hurt. In fact I think it would hurt you a lot more than it would hurt me. But if I don't... If I don't take a chance with us... that's going to hurt me too. So its a choice. I can either choose to get hurt by people I don't give a damn about , and in return I get... get to be with someone I really...like.

"Or, I give up the boy I like and get hurt by my own decision. " Harry finishes.

"We hurt either way." Draco smiles bitterly, Harry's words making a lot of sense.

"Yes. All you need to choose is , what's worth the hurt? Being with me, or society's approval?" Harry leans forward slightly and Draco blinks. They stay that way for a second and Harry sighs, pulling back.

"I've already chosen, Draco. I'm not pushing you, but I hope you'll pick me." He says quietly.

Draco stares into the nigh, thoughtfully. So easy, he tells himself. So easy to turn around right now and kiss Harry, tell nhim that he doesn't deserve so much happiness. That his heart is so light, he wants to spout wings and fly.

So easy but so frightening.

The wind picks up and he shivers a little, only to have a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulder. Harry snuggles in with him and they huddle together . Draco's thoughts trip over each other and he wants to run away but he stays still, letting the gentle lap of the water against his toe, calm him.

"It's just you and me." Harry whispers, " Right now. Just you and me. Let's pretend we're the only ones on the planet."

Draco turns around to the brunette in surprise but Harry's looking out into the lake, lit by a full moon.

"The moon is a ghostly galleon, tossed upon cloudy seas." He says absently and Draco nods, looping his finger with Harry's. They sit in silence, pressed against each other and Draco waits till the moon slips behind a cloud before turning around, slightly, and pressing his lips against Harry's.

It's soft and very short, over before it even begins and Harry smiles into the kiss.

"Happy Birthday, Draco." He whispers suddenly and Draco starts.

"Wh-What?" He lets out a yelp when a pair of arms grab him from behind lifting him up with ease and tossing him into the lake.

He sinks like a stone and comes back up, spluttering. Troy and Gerald stand next to Harry , all three of then guffawing and he can feel simultaneous joy and fury and he crawls his way out of the lake, chasing the tall monster around the lake, while he screams for mercy. It's a riot and in the end they all end up in the lake, trying to dunk each other and kicking water at each other.

At around two, they cast drying charms on each other and Troy pulls out a squashed cake from his basket. Draco is amazed they'd remembered, when he'd forgotten it himself. He hasn't thought of his birthday in such a long time.

"Happy birthday dear Draco ~~" Gerald sings , his voice high and pure while the others stare in awe.

"You sing beautifully." Draco whispers, offering the first piece to a blushing Gerald , because he doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve any of this and he knows who he has to be grateful to.

"Thank you." He mumbles, tears stinging the corner of his eyes as he offers the piece of cake with his name on, to Harry.

"No, Draco. Thank you. Thank you for being born and for making my world a better place." Harry whispers back and the tears slip out.

"Hey, birthday baby, don't cry." Troy whispers, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him into a half hug.

"Yeah. If you cry on your birthday an angel in heaven loses her wings." Gerald says sadly and Draco laughs. He furiously wipes away his tears and instinctively kisses Gerald on the cheek.

"And maybe if I kiss another angel on his cheek, she'll get it back?" He teases and Gerald blushes red again, hiding behind Troy.

They spend the night out on the ground, tangled in each other and sometime before dawn, Draco wakes up, turning on his side and watching a drop of dew clinging to Troy's lashes. To his left, Harry's sleeping quietly, one arm wrapped around his waist and he realizes , that this is his world.

This was worth the hurt.

* * *

In Harry's draw, there's a photograph. It's a picture of Draco out in the lake, staring at Troy and Gerald while they play around with a toy that he'd bought them. That is his favorite, because Draco looks happy . He's genuinely happy that someone's enjoying something he'd given them.

And that, Harry decides is what makes him fall in love with Draco every time he sees him. The way Draco is willing to give anything, anything he can, just to make others happy.

And maybe that's why , he wants to be the main reason for Draco's smile.

* * *

Draco wonders what would change between them, but surprisingly nothing Spring turns to summer and Summer smooths out into Autumn, they grow closer. Draco stares out of his window, watching the leaves change color and he realizes that he's been changing too, his insecurities slipping down so much, his fears dissolving to vague memories that don't scare him as much as they used to.

He's still afraid though, because the real world is waiting for him. Waiting for him to step out of this little corner of watches for changes in Harry's way of looking at him, to see if the brunette was losing interest but if anything, Harry's affection only grows.

Nothing changes, yet everything's different.

Except, now Harry doesn't hide the fact that he likes looking at Draco and Draco doesn't have to sneak glances at him either. They smile and laugh and everytime his fears surface, Draco buries them down because for now, everything was fine. Time slips by fast and before he knows it, they're a week away from graduation.

When he walks into their room one evening, he finds a huge brown envelope on his bed.

Harry is out photographing with Troy and Gerald is sleeping in Harry's bed, arms flung out loosely.

Draco carefully tears open the flap and pulls out the contents.

It's a letter , a magazine and a photograph.

He reads the letter first.

_Dearest Draco, _

_I'm not as brave as I look after all. I thought about all possible ways for me to do this, but in the end I chickened out. Don't hate me too much. I've never wanted to be an auror. In fact I'm not officially a student in the academy. The only reason I got in is because , let's say, the wizarding world owed me a favor? _

_While that's the reason I came in, the reason I wanted to come in, is something else. _

_You. _

_It might surprise you, even creep you out a bit, but I fell in love with you a long long time back. At the time, I didn't know what it was, even assumed it was just me falling in love with the way you look, because I'm a photographer and a photographer always falls in love with his subject._

_But let's say I've never felt the need to chase any of my other subjects. A first for me. And so I dropped my job ( Senior Editor and Lead photographer in that photography magazine I've left in the envelope.) , and I took a chance with what I wanted._

_I can't say what drew me to your side , what made me reach out for you, but I can tell you what made me want to stay . _

_You did. _

_Your smile, the curve of your lips, the way you tilt your head when you're confused, the way you bite your lower lip when you're worried, the way your hands twine together when you're nervous. _

_But more than that, the way you smile despite the pain you seem to feel, the way you reach out to help even when you need help as well. The way you let me close, although I stood for a world that had served you with injustice. _

_And most importantly, I fell in love with you. _

_With all the good things and all the bad things, all the silly things and the painful things, everything that makes you, YOU._

_I can't promise you the perfect life. _

_There's going to be rough days, days when you want to rip my hair out or bury me alive. Days when people might throw words and actions at you, all calculated to cause hurt. But through it all, I swear I'll stay by your side. _

_Because believe it or not, I love you. _

_I loved staying by your side, looking over you, even when you hardly acknowledged me. Imagine how much I'd enjoy being with you when you love me back. _

_I sound desperate , don't I?_

_Well, I won't deny it. _

_I'm not perfect Dray and neither are you and life will never ever be perfect. But I'll do my best to be the best I can be. _

_Why not smile when there's nothing to cry about?_

_Why not love when there's love to be had?_

_I took a chance and I found true love, Dray. _

_Will you take a chance with me?_

_Love,_

_Harry._

_P.s :- That photograph is something I've saved for a while. I'm sure you'll like it. It was taken at the Quidditch World Cup, the only time I got to see the pair of you together. _

Draco can feel his fingers trembling. He reaches out for the photograph and to his surprise it's his mother. She staring out into the side and he catches sight of himself, with his body turned away from her, leaning into his father and hanging onto his every word.

There's something wistful about the way she stares at him, soft and happy. She looks content, like looking at Draco is all she wants and his stomach clenches .

He turns the photo around and Harry's scrawl greets him

_Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever... it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.  
_

_To be remembered, that's all she wants._

* * *

When Harry steps into the room, there's an awkward pause. He stays near the door, looking nervous.

"You lied to me." Draco states bleakly. Harry's eyes widen in shock and he opens his mouth to argue but Draco holds up a hand.

"Editor in chief? Award winning Photographer? Sold over ten million copies? " He whispers softly shaking his head in disbelief, waving the magazine at Harry's face, making him wince.

"I can exp-"

"I love you."

Harry's eyes fly open in shock. He goes slack jawed and stares . And then stares some more.

"I love you, because you're everything I'm too afraid to be. I love you because you take chances with vermin, who don't deserve it and I love you, because I'm a selfish bastard and I can't imagine letting you go." Draco finishes quickly and it's good that he did because Harry presses him into the bed, his lips crushing Draco's in a fierce kiss.

He relaxes in a second , gently teasing him with soft, and slow teases , teeth tugging on his lower lip.

"You're not mad?" He whispers into Draco's mouth and Draco smiles into the kiss.

"I am. But I'm giving you a chance to make it up to me. " He gently guides Harry's hand to the collar of his shirt and Harry's eyes widen in surprise.

"Are-Are you sure? We don't.. It's alright if we-"

"Stop thinking , Potter. It makes you do stupid things."

* * *

Harry's not sure how this happens , but in a way he does, because it's only natural that he should want to memorize each dip and curve of Draco's body. The contours of his body that make his shadow that much longer, the silky strands that reflect light and the brightness of his eyes that shine through his photographs.

Draco is all nervous energy, a cacophony of whimpers and gasps and pleas, easily undone under Harry's desperate fingers and mouth. He fists his hand in Harry's shirt and pulls him close, crushing their lips together and Harry can taste the soft pink lips that look so delectable on film. He slips a tongue in and tastes brightness and shadows and secret fantasies and he tastes love, love as pure as the emotions captured on celluloid.

"I could wait." He whispers, not willing to push the other boy.

Draco smiles wide and bright and Harry falls in love all over again.

"I can't." Draco drags him back down.

* * *

Harry teasingly pushes him back and Draco falls back against the soft mattress, like he's been shoved. He melts into the kiss and then Harry's lips move away, dragging his teeth and tongues over the exposed expanse of his neck, lightly sucking and biting and then soothing with his tongue. Draco gasps and struggles and fights for air, before dragging their lips together again.

Harry kisses him until he's splayed flat against the bed, eyes wide and lost and lips parted, blush staining his cheeks and then Harry's reaching out to the table and pulling his camera , snapping a picture.

"You're such a weirdo!" Draco laughs , too turned on to be annoyed.

"No, just a photographer. A photographer in love." Harry leans down, pushing his hips down into Draco's and he gasps at the friction. They make quick work of their jeans and suddenly its skin on skin and he's not sure if he's doing this right.

"Harry.. I..I.."

"Hey, relax. I got you." Harry hold him close, just holding him, cradling him almost and the familiar words smooth away his apprehensions and he's moving closer, trying to pull more sounds out of Harry, his lips tracing the line of his chest, tongue swirling around one nipple before moving down and down, dipping lightly into his belly button.

And then the camera is tossed to the side, Harry flipping them over with ease , his lips moving down , tongue dipping into the curve of his waist down and then further down , lightly licking at his tip and Draco's pretty certain he loses his mind at that point.

"You're amazing." He whispers, when Harry slides a single digit in, slowly , so slowly. But it stings and he tries to relax, tries to think about nothing but the feeling of Harry's long thin finger pushing into him.

"Relax for me." Harry whispers, lips close to his ear, licking and teasing .

He tries but feels like it's too much and then he's pulling out his finger and pushing back in and dear, God, it burns.

"I'll make it good. Just relax for me." Harry say gently, lapping at his neck and Draco unclenches his thighs letting him work his way in, sighing when the slide becomes a little more easy and a little more familiar.

"So beautiful." Harry whispers and Draco laughs, shaking his head.

"It's dark, you can't even see-"

"I'm a photographer . I make a living out of seeing things that aren't visible." He slips another finger in and curls his fingers against the walls of Draco's insides and the gentle press of the pad of his finger is too much and not enough , all at once. Draco's head falls back into the pillow, all coherency leaving his body in a single whoosh of breath.

"Look at me. Only me." Draco whispers when Harry thrusts into him for the first time and Harry nods shakily and he pushes in, leaving Draco trembling at the ache and the pain and wanting to cry out, but he swallows it all down because he knows its going to get better .

"Don't wander off. " Draco whispers, pulling him down for a kiss and Harry pushes in deeper, earning a gasp. He wishes he could explain, that he can't ever think of anything but Draco because Draco's the perfect photograph. And then suddenly, Draco's flipping them over and moving down on him, pressing Harry deeper inside himself and it's a lot like panning.

Draco is the main picture, the only distinguishable object in a sea of blurred emotions and Harry leans back, watching him with wide eyes.

When its over they fall back over each other and Harry kisses him, soft and sloppy.

"I can't ever wander off. ..." He whispers and its the truest thing he's ever said.

* * *

When the three of them graduate, Draco tops his class.

Troy and Gerald look mildly dumbstruck when they learn that Harry isn't a student but they take it all in their stride. Troy and Draco are made partners for their first posting, somewhere in Brazil and Harry packs everything needed for Tropical Wildlife Photography but forgets insect spray and his toothbrush. But that's okay because Draco remembers things for him.

As Harry watches Draco sleep, he realizes that the most important thing about being a photographer is taking risks and believing in luck.

Because it doesn't matter how good a photographer you are, if there's nothing to take a photograph of.

Sometimes, Harry's just lucky that he finds beautiful stories in everyday instances.

Like the curve of Draco's spine when he sleeps, on his side, his back to the window, lit up by a late evening sun. The whites and golds and the beige and bronze of the picture amaze him and he clicks, enjoying the whirr of the film sliding into the belly of his camera.

In Draco, Harry has found the perfect story.

* * *

The night before they leave to Brazil, Draco dreams of his mother.

He's standing at the edge of a deep forest, on a clear night. the starlight is week at best and the canopy of trees overhead is too thick to let the light shine through. He catches sight of white gold hair, moving between the trees and he takes a step into the darkness, assaulted by the smell of damp foliage. The trees are thick and huge , so closely placed, their roots crawling out of the ground like hundreds of sea monsters and he takes care not to trip as he moves a bit in.

"Mother?" He's not calling for her, just wondering if she's there. The wind picks up and he stays in place. She appears then, in between two trunks, still dressed in her blue dress, still wearing her smile.

He feels a familiar urge, the urge to reach out and run , to find her and keep her with him. He begins moving, because he's too weak to fight it. Too weak to let go of her.

Because holding on to her is so much easier than letting he reaches out, ready to chase and she turns around begins to move away from him, just as familiar fingers slip into his. He turns in surprise and Harry's there, curling his fingers with his.

"Go, on." He gives him a push and Draco trips and falls, not on the floor but into darkness.

When he blinks he's back in that old country path and his mother's there, close enough for him to reach her, maybe even outrun her.

But he doesn't chase and she doesn't run. Instead she looks angry and impatient like she's waiting for him to do something. Like she's always waited for him to do it. But Draco's never known what to do because he's stupid that way.

So he just goes with what he wants to do.

"I'm happy, mother." He calls out to her.

Her face relaxes, the impatience seeping out of it with ease, the furrowed brows relaxing and she looks a lot like how he remembers her from his childhood. She smiles at him, wistfully , and then a bit wider. And then she picks up the edge of her skirt and moves a bit towards him.

"That's what you were waiting for. You were waiting for me to be... happy again. " He says thoughtfully, taking a step towards her and she doesn't run.

She laughs again, full and hearty . She steps a bit more closer and then kisses him, lightly, on his cheek. Then the other. and then on his forehead. Her finger brush back the hair out of his eyes and she strokes his cheek, just like old times.

"I am too." she whispers. The pain of losing her hits him like a ton of bricks and Draco hates goodbyes and here he is , going through the worst goodbye of his life, all over again. Because he knows, deep down, he isn't going to see her again.

She moves away, turns around and begins walking away. Draco watches her go and she stops near the end of the slope, turning to wave a bit. Draco waves back.

"I love you." He mouths, not sure if she can see it. But he knows she can feel it. And she responds with a smile , a very wide smile.

The sun rises over the edge of the horizon, spilling over the landscape and coating it in a bronze hue. He blinks and she's gone.

This time when he wakes up, it's bright and warm, the sun streaming in through the window. Harry's next to him, the light catching out his golden skin and Draco reaches out kissing him softly. Harry blinks groggily and then grins at him.

"Hey, how you doing?" He whispers, stretching out.

"Happy." Draco whispers, snuggling closer." I'm really happy."

Harry laughs , a little confused but draws him closer.

"Okay. I'm.. happy too."

And in the end, that's all that matters.

* * *

**A/N : oh, God. I want to cry. I loved writing this, I loved looking forward to writing this. And I was half tempted to put some sort of angst inside just to drag it out , but I couldn't . I wanted them to be together and I wanted it at once. **

**But now its done and I feel... sad? Just a little bit. **

**Thanks for reading, all of you! Don't forget to drop me a review. If you liked it that is. * flops away to cry in a corner ***

**P.s :- this is seriously the longest story i've written! **


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